A Servant's Loyalty
by daccu65
Summary: When Montgomery Fiske was turned to stone by the power of the Yono, he left an empty mansion behind. Few knew of his fate, and those few weren't talking. Of course, there were those who would try to learn what became of the man. After having left Fiske's service over a year before, Bates finds himself given the job of determining what became of the man.
1. Chapter 1

Dear Reader:

Please know that the characters appearing in this tale do not belong to me; they are the property of the Empire of the Mouse Ears. This story is not intended to generate profit, it was written for the enjoyment of writing and, hopefully, your enjoyment in reading. Formalities aside, please enjoy...

* * *

James Bates sat, very uncomfortably, in a very comfortable chair. In his years of employment as Lord Montgomery Fiske's personal valet, he had dealt with nobility and government authorities on several occasions, but he had never been entirely comfortable doing so. He had learned that when a man who was both a nobleman and a magistrate asked to speak to someone such as him, a commoner of no notable education or standing, it couldn't be for a good reason. The man in question sat opposite a low table from him, in an equally comfortable chair, and regarded him over a cup of tea.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like a cup?" The man, one Earl Snidely, asked him. For all of the man's proper manners and efforts to make the former servant feel comfortable, Bates couldn't help but imagine a trap of sorts awaiting him.

"No, but thank you, m'lord."

"You seem very tense," Snidely noted, first placing his cup onto a saucer and then the saucer onto the table. "I can assure you that you have no need to be." The middle-aged man allowed a slight smile to show on his face. "Of course, if I intended you any ill will, I would probably say much the same."

Bates saw no proper way to answer such a statement, so maintained his silence.

"Perhaps it is just as well," the nobleman sighed. "If I cannot assure you of my goodwill, I can at least keep this meeting as brief as possible. Let me open by stating that I hold a rather unique, unofficial and undocumented position in Her Majesty's Civil Service. Once we peel back all of the titles and replace the grandiose descriptions with solid, honest English, my job is to ensure that such of Her Majesty's nobles who maintain their ancestral properties...and routinely use their titles...maintain a certain appearance and code of conduct."

This news caused Bates to gulp.

"I see you understand the implications," Snidely noted, offering a tight, mirthless smile.

"I haven't been in Lord Fiske's employ, or on his lands, for almost two years," Bates gently protested.

"I am aware of this," Earl Snidely remarked. "And again, I assure you that you are not suspected of any wrongdoing. I merely want information. Depending upon such information, a proposition may be in order."

"M'lord, if you're seeking to implicate Lord Fiske..." Bates struggled to put his disquiet into words.

"I can assure you that it isn't my intention," Snidely interrupted him. The nobleman pulled an envelope from inside his jacket and slid it across the table to the former servant. "Please read the message," he requested.

Bates eyes flew wide when he recognized the royal seal on the envelope. With both suspicion and reverence, he broke the seal and pulled out the luxurious stationary within.

"Be it known to all whom read this," Bates intoned out loud. "That all records of any exchange of information between Mr. James Bates, formerly employed by Montgomery Fiske and Earl Snidely, of Her Majesty's Civil Service, shall be sealed for a period of seventy-five years from the date of..." Bates trailed off in amazement as he read the remainder. Dumbfounded, he looked again at the nobleman. "This bears today's date, and is signed..."

"By Her Majesty, herself," Snidely assured him. "Mr. Bates, may I ask you how old you are?"

"I am fifty-eight, m'lord."

"Do you have any children?" Snidely asked.

"No."

"Any prospect of acquiring such, either through adoption or a more direct method?" The nobleman allowed a touch of a smile to cross his face, again.

Bates could only shake his head.

"There you go," Earl Snidely assured him. "Even if anyone were to consider charging Lord Fiske, or yourself, with any wrongdoing, everything you say to me is strictly confidential. Only a member of the Royal Family, or someone authorized by a royal, will be able to access anything you tell me for seventy five years. I don't think I need to point out that you will be long gone by that point, as will Lord Fiske." The man's smile faded. "Assuming that Fiske is still with us."

"M'lord?" Bates asked.

"We will address this in due time," Snidely told him. "Now, are you satisfied that everything you say will be kept in the strictest confidence?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"Very well," now, Snidely looked much more confident. "Will you have a cup of tea and answer my questions about Lord Fiske?"

"My pleasure, m'lord."

Smiling, the Earl filled a cup for his guest and refilled his own. Once again taking up the container, he indulged in a sip before speaking again.

"Mr. Bates, what is the last news you heard of Lord Fiske?"

"It was about a year ago," Bates answered. "I had left his employ better than a year before that, but I couldn't help but search out news of him."

"Proper loyalty," Snidely nodded. "Do go on."

"M'lord Fiske had been arrested in America...for impersonating..."

"A lemur," Snidely finished for him. "Admittedly, it sounds ridiculous, but it happened."

"After that, I didn't hear further news," Bates admitted.

"Mr. Bates, Lord Fiske has recently vanished," Earl Snidely informed him. "He has made no purchases, paid no bills, and has made no public appearances for the last two months. Two days ago, I personally visited his estate. There was no answer to my knock."

The man pulled a key from his jacket and held it for Bates to see.

"A little-known piece of information is that Her Majesty requires that all hereditary mansions, such as Lord Fiske's, be accessible to my office. When I entered the mansion, I found no sign that anyone had made use of the main floor facilities for at least several days. When I found Lord Fiske's bedchamber, it was tidy and in order, but dusty. It is my belief that Lord Fiske's mansion has been unoccupied for as long as he has been missing."

Bates had no idea how to respond to this news. There was sadness of course; he simply wasn't able to offer Fiske the loyalty that he had without developing an emotional attachment, as well. There was also a great deal of disquiet, as this nobleman in front of him clearly wanted him for some purpose, involving the missing Lord Fiske.

"Prior to Lord Fiske's...interesting...arrest, what news had you heard from him?" Snidely's eyes were piercing as he studied the servant.

"Nothing beyond what the tabloids reported," Bates answered, after setting his teacup down. "He had supposedly taken up with a group of monkeys and had started to travel around the world."

"I know," Snidely slowly nodded. "I've read the same reports. Is it a ridiculous idea that he would gather a group of monkeys to himself?"

"Not really," Bates told him. "He had a bit of an infatuation with the creatures, which had grown worse towards the end."

"The end," Snidely noted. "By that, do you mean the end of your employment with him?"

"Yes, m'lord," Bates suspected that he had just let something slip, and could only hope that it wouldn't get him into too much trouble.

"Mr. Bates, if Lord Fiske started to display...shall we say less than rational actions...I must know when and why."

Bates started to sweat.

"I can assure you that Fiske will be far from the first, or last, nobleman who has strayed into...shall we say...less than legal behavior," Snidely emphasized. "In fact, a distant uncle of mine in the past moved to Canada, took on the family name as his first name and gave the Royal Canadian Mounted Police no end of trouble."

Bates thought about it. He balanced his own loyalty towards his former employer, who he knew was a good man at one point. In a moment of selfishness, he also thought of his own role and how he could face punishment for what he had done...and had failed to do. He also debated with himself if his story could put him in an institution for the insane. Earl Snidely waited, patiently sipping his tea, clearly aware that Bates was debating against himself. Finally, the former servants' eyes fell back to the table and to the letter lying upon it. At the heart of the matter, James Bates was a loyal Englishman and if the Queen decided that what little knowledge he had was worth offering him some form of immunity, then the Queen's agent would get this knowledge.

"The entire story may take some time to tell," he told the agent.

"The teapot is full," Snidely informed him. "And I can always make some more."

"Very well, m'lord." Taking a deep breath, he started at the beginning. "From his earliest days, Lord Fiske was interested in the past. There are some stone-age ruins on the Fiske Estate, and even as a youth, he would spend time in them, imagining what it was like to live at that time."

"Did you personally observe this?"

"Yes, m'lord," Bates told the man. "At that time, my father was serving Lord Fiske's father. I had the duty of accompanying the young lord and make sure he kept out of trouble." James offered his questioner a guilty half-smile. "I'll confess that I obtained some books on archaeology for the boy. Upon studying these books, he became very thorough in his explorations. It's very easy to keep a boy out of trouble when he only wants to carefully sketch and catalog a series of ancient ruins."

"Considering the habits some nobles acquire, an obsession with archaeology is hardly dastardly," Snidely noted. "However, it didn't become an obsession until later, did it?"

"No, m'lord." Bates reminded himself that Earl Snidely clearly knew more about Fiske than he was letting on, probably to test his honesty. "Through his school years, it was more a hobby than anything else; he didn't neglect his studies or his duties, but he devoted the lion's share of his free time to it."

Snidely merely nodded.

"He took courses on the subject when he went to university," Bates continued. "And he went on expeditions between semesters. I accompanied him on many of these, as my father was still serving his and the elder Lord Fiske wanted his son to be accompanied by someone he trusted."

"The elder Fiske didn't trust his son?"

"He trusted the young man up to a certain point," Bates admitted. "Young Lord Fiske was a good man, and trustworthy, but he had a great passion for learning of the past. His father seemed a little concerned that his son would turn his back on his station and wander off to spend the rest of his life digging up old relics."

"Was it a valid concern?"

"I don't think so," Bates answered. "Or at least, not at that time. Monty...er...M'lord Fiske, understood his duties as a lord and landowner. He wasn't about to shirk such duties...or so I thought at the time."

"At the time?" Snidely's eyebrow rose. "So I now understand that something happened to change this."

"Aye," Bates nodded. "You must understand, M'lord, that both of Lord Fiske's parents were only children. He was born when they were in their late thirties and his mother's health was never very good. The lady passed on shortly after her son finished university and his father didn't last very much longer. Lord Fiske, just a few years out of university, was now, truly, Lord Fiske."

"And he neglected his duties as a landowner?" Snidely prompted.

"No, m'lord," Bates contradicted him. "At least not at that time. Rather, he looked at his estate as a way to fund his archaeology. He kept a close hand on his properties and investments and earned solid returns. But where another nobleman might invest these profits in his estate or a lavish lifestyle, he invested them in his passion for archaeology."

"Did he indulge in archaeology of the more...morally gray sort?" Snidely's eyes were hard on Bates.

"Not at all!" The former servant allowed a bit of fire into his voice at that accusation. "Everything was above the board! Lord Fiske contacted the proper authorities in every country we visited! While he used his status as a noble to gain meetings, he never threatened anyone he dealt with! He was up front and honest. He shared his findings with the locals and he turned over all artifacts to the proper authorities. Up until...things went wrong with him...it got to the point that nations welcomed him with open arms!"

"I am aware of this," Snidely again offered him a nod. "Her Majesty's government benefited a great deal from Lord Fiske's actions. Those contacts he made with smaller nations, which benefited from his hobby, made things much easier for Her Majesty's diplomats. In fact, the Queen herself offered him a post as an ambassador."

"And he turned down the Queen?"

Bates hadn't known about this!

"Not in so many words," Snidely smirked slightly. "He logically pointed out that he was able to enhance Her Majesty's diplomatic efforts even more by continuing the open and honest interactions with the very nations she was hoping he could charm as a diplomat. Her Majesty saw the logic behind his reasoning and concurred."

"He refused the Queen, and she was happy with it?" Bates mused.

"Indeed, but please continue."

"Yes, m'lord," Bates nodded. "Perhaps that explains why the BBC contacted him and wished to feature his explorations and adventures. After that, an American network purchased the rights to the shows and re-broadcast them in North America. Shortly after he made his first appearance on the telly, he had quite the number of offers to investigate still more sites, all over the world. It was during this time that...something changed."

Snidely merely raised an eyebrow again.

"You see, m'lord, Lord Fiske always thought that learning a bit of the local culture helped him understand the people and sites he was investigating. There were quite the number of trips to Asia, during which he studied various martial arts in order to gain greater understanding of the sites he was investigating, and to impress the locals. Lord Fiske was always a hard worker; clearing debris, moving dirt and exploring areas on foot. He was a strong, fit young man so the martial arts came naturally to him. As time went on, he began to get more interested in first the cultural, and then the mystical aspects."

At Bates' pause, Snidely motioned for him to continue.

"He started to believe things that I couldn't," Bates said, his voice a mere whisper. "Things that couldn't be."

"There's no need for embarrassment," Snidely assured him. "We live in an ancient land and while I will not break confidence and tell you of some of the things that I have observed in the course of my duties, I will say that I have seen things that simply defy science. There is something to mysticism and faith, so I will not judge you for what you have observed."

"Thank you, m'lord," Bates took a deep breath to brace himself. "In his studies and instructions, he learned of four jade statues that could charge a man with something called mystical monkey power."

Bates paused, waiting for his questioner to snicker or laugh. Instead, the man continued to regard him with a curious, yet expectant, expression.

"He investigated these artifacts," Bates stated, now more confident that he wouldn't be spending time in a padded room. "And determined where they were most likely to be found. When we went out in search of them, it was different."

"How so?"

"Before, when we wanted to find specific artifacts, Lord Fiske worked with the locals," Bates reminded him. "But now, he was secretive; he'd either tell the locals and the host governments that we were looking for something else, or would try to sneak in with nobody the wiser. He also became obsessed with monkeys, even going so far as to have some dumpy lass do surgery on him to give him a monkey's hands and feet!"

"How did the search for the statues turn out?"

"We recovered three of them with nobody guessing what we'd done," Bates confessed. "But he became impatient to recover the fourth. We tracked it to a partially collapsed temple and all of the openings were too small for His Lordship to fit inside. Before this, he would have set up a camp and carefully expanded an opening, using safety precautions and cataloging the process to get an idea of the techniques used to construct the place. This time, he contacted Kim Possible."

"The American celebrity?"

"That's her," Bates nodded. "She was just a wee thing back then, so Lord Fiske thought she'd be capable, and willing, to get through one of the openings, but bringing her in was a mistake."

"How so?"

"He couldn't just take the statue," Bates told him. "He had to feed her a bit of barmy that he was recovering it for a museum, otherwise she wouldn't fetch it for him. After she brought it out, he had to turn it over, because she had a lad that monitored such things. Later, he stole it from the museum."

"I'm unaware of him ever being charged with the theft."

"He wasn't," James told him. "He took the statue down to his dungeon level, with the other three. He put them in this room, so that there was one at each of the cardinal directions from the center of the room, and they all faced the center point. Then, he stood at the center point."

Bates struggled to continue, to tell the impossible sight that he had seen. Snidely patiently waited for him to come to grips with his memories.

"The statues all glowed," Bates recalled. "And beams of light came from their eyes and struck Lord Fiske. He began to glow and floated into the air. He roared in triumph, the light faded, then he floated back to the ground, looking stronger than he ever had before."

"And then?"

"And then there was a knock on the door," Bates told his host. "The young lad that had accompanied the Possible Lass had shown up to investigate the theft. I thought Possible was with him at the time, but it was an illusion that their egghead had thrown together. I..."

"If you did something that you later regretted, it is understandable due to your loyalty to your master," Snidely assured him. "Plus, I need not remind you that you will not be persecuted for anything you say to me."

"I didn't do anything when Lord Fiske said that he was going to kill the lad," Bates murmured. "The lad was only trying to find out what had happened to some artifact, my lord was going to kill the boy to keep his secret, and I did nothing."

"Considering that the boy is still alive, I conclude that Lord Fiske did not succeed."

"Aye." Bates still couldn't bring himself to look the man in the eye. "The lad managed to get to the dungeon room and the statues charged him up, and his wee rat pet, as well. I hate to admit it, but the rat managed to best me; but maybe that was for the best."

"May I assume that the rat saved the boy's life?"

"Aye," Bates affirmed. "The boy still wasn't a match for Lord Fiske, but he distracted the man while his little friend threatened the statues. When Lord Fiske tried to save the artifacts, the boy took him down. The police showed up a bit after that and hauled my master off, charging him with stealing the artifacts."

"And what did you do?"

"I came to my senses," Bates now met the piercing look. "I realized that I had been helping Lord Fiske steal ancient treasures and that I had been about to stand by while he murdered a lad who was little more than a child. I arranged for my lord to obtain proper legal council; then I packed my belongings and left."

"And since then, you've worked at a five star resort, where you've made a name for yourself for your efficiency, candor and manners," Snidely finished for the servant. "Have you made any effort to contact Fiske, or has he made any effort to contact you?"

"I've not tried to speak to his lordship," Bates answered. "Although I've looked for him on the news, now and again. If he's ever tried to find me, he hasn't tried very hard."

Earl Snidely continued to observe Bates, making the former servant very uncomfortable once again. Bates was no idiot, he could almost see the gears working behind the nobleman's eyes, as he debated his next action. Apparently, Bates' story must have met with Snidely's approval, for he finally set his cup down again.

"Mr. Bates, as part of my duties to Her Majesty, I also keep track of the various nobles' line of progression. It is my duty to...shall we say...manipulate them to make sure that complete scoundrels are not put into a position where they can cause the Queen a great deal of embarrassment." He offered a brief, thin smile. "It is a strange job, as I have to allow the occasional minor scoundrel into a position of minor authority and status, in order to keep my role secret."

"The fact that you're telling me this means that I'm not going to leave this room without some agreement with you," Bates noted.

"Nothing that dramatic," Snidely assured him. "Mr. Bates, should Lord Fiske be gone forever, do you know the identity of the next lord of the Fiske Estate?"

"No," Bates admitted. "I know that Lord Fiske's parents were both only children and I don't know about any second cousins or more distant kin."

"Most understandable," the Earl nodded. "The next in line to be the master, or rather the mistress, is a third cousin, once removed, of Montgomery Fiske. She is a young woman who has spent most of her adult life on public assistance. Her spending habits go well beyond impulsive. If she were to take up stewardship, I predict that the estates will be in bankruptcy and foreclosure within a year."

Again, Bates had no words of wisdom to offer.

"However, she has a son," Snidely continued. "This child is only now entering primary school. If I have proper reason, I will be able to manipulate events to see him placed in a fine boarding school in order to limit the poor influence that his mother is having upon him. However, I am most reluctant to break up a family, even a dysfunctional one, so I need a compelling reason to mold this child into the next Lord Fiske."

"Am I to understand that I'm supposed to ask what such a reason could be?"

"Indeed." Snidely smiled at the common man. "Mr. Bates, the Fiske Mansion has had no guests visit since before you left your position with old Monty. While Lord Fiske had occasional deliveries, you are the only person I can find with more than a distant knowledge of the estate, or the man who recently lived there."

Bates could only watch the nobleman, growing more nervous as he sensed that the reason for this interview was about to be revealed.

"I am requesting that you take up the position of caretaker of the Fiske Estate," Snidely informed him. "Rather, I should say that I request that you resume this position. In the course of your official duties, you will scour the grounds, and Fiske's records, for any clue as to his fate. You will report any findings to me."

"M'lord?" Bates asked, after another audible gulp. "What if he were to be located?"

"Then I will have to make a judgment," Snidely informed him. "I will determine if he is competent to remain in his position." Seeing Bates' crestfallen look, he quickly continued. "Do not worry, Mr. Bates. If I deem Montgomery Fiske to be incompetent, I will see that he receives proper care, be it medical or mental, so that he can once again resume his duties."

"M'lord?" Bates forced himself to ask the obvious question. "What if I find that M'lord Fiske is no longer with us; or that he's slipped too far away from sanity to be brought back?"

"Then, Mr. Bates, I will separate a dysfunctional mother from her child," Snidely's expression showed that he didn't even like to contemplate such an action. "And request you to remain the caretaker until such time as this child is prepared to assume Monty's old title."

"I...I want you to know, m'lord, that I'm willing to do so," Bates told him. "But someone like myself, making decisions that affect a nobleman's estate?"

"You proved most competent while doing so for Monty," Snidely noted. "As for the authority you would need to do so..."

He pulled another envelope from his jacket and slid it across the table. With slightly trembling fingers, Bates opened it.

"By the order of Her Majesty..." Bates read aloud, then his voice fell silent and he read the remainder of the document.

"This is a form letter," Bates declared, looking directly at Earl Snidely. "But the handwriting that filled in my name and the date is the same as the signature!"

"Indeed." The Earl's emotion showed a great deal of humor at Bates' amazement.

"This is Her Majesty's own writing!" Bates gasped. "The Queen herself wrote my name?"

"Perhaps you now understand the gravity of the situation," Snidely noted. "And your ability to deal with it."

"Of...of course I will accept!" Bates assured him. "But...my current employer...I don't want to just leave him without notice."

Smirking again, Snidely produced a third envelope and slid it across the table. With fingers that had grown numb, Bates opened this one.

"Be it known that the man who bears this letter, Mr. James Bates..." he read, noting yet another of the Queen's signature's on the bottom.

"There are six copies in the envelope," Snidely informed him. "One for your current employer, one for your landlord, and four for whomever else you need. I'm quite sure that such a proclamation, signed by the Queen herself, will ease any hard feelings that a rapid departure might cause in any of your current associates."

"Of...of course."

"Very well," Snidely's smile was very wide as he now slid a key across the table. "May I inform Her Majesty, truthfully, that you've accepted this responsibility?"

* * *

James Bates, newly reinstated caretaker of the Fiske Mansion, paid the two, burly deliverymen and added a bit of a gratuity. They had placed what possessions he had brought with him under the main entrance's meager shelter, then returned to their van. It took a few moments for Bates to realize why they didn't drive off to their next job, but then he realized that they were merely being considerate men. Pulling the key that Earl Snidely had provided him, he made his way around the side of the mansion, to the servants' entrance. Once the key unlocked the door, he waved to the men. Seeing that he could now get out of the drizzle, the men drove off. Bracing himself, Bates entered the eerily quiet building.

He walked through the chilly, yet familiar halls until he reached the grand entrance, chuckling to himself at how wrong it felt to carry his few boxes and bags through the portal that was reserved for the master and his guests. Once his possessions were completely and safely out of the light rain, he closed and locked the door, took up a suitcase, and made his way towards the servant's quarters. It took him several trips to shuttle what he had brought with him to the rooms that had once been, and were again, his.

He was hardly satisfied with the musty, stale smell of the suite, nor did the chill appeal to him. He opened the window a bit and turned up the thermostat. He frowned when he didn't hear the furnace ignite. Drawing upon his memory, went to the utility room and found that the breaker that powered this particular furnace had been tripped. Resetting it, he was gratified that it didn't trip again, and that the furnace blower soon turned on. While he was perfectly capable of wearing a jacket against the chill, the furnace also dried the air and he would have records to go over very soon.

Deciding that his time and energy for the day was limited to the point where reviewing records wouldn't be productive, he contented himself with reviewing the entire estate, with the exception of the dungeons, in order to determine what was in need of repair. By nightfall, he had compiled a list of issues and had cataloged them as to what he could address and which ones required proper tradesmen. Satisfied, he prepared a meal for himself in the servants' kitchen before seeking the bed that had been his for so very long.

Settled under the blankets that he had brought with him, he felt like he was home for the first time in more than two years. However, he swore he heard odd sounds, as if a stealthy intruder was sneaking about the mansion. Deciding that it was a case of nerves, he rolled over and forced himself to sleep.

He awoke the next morning to note that the air was still a bit too humid for his taste, so he concentrated upon domestic tasks. He spent the morning finalizing his list of items in need of repair and contacted the workmen who had seen to such work for years. To a man, they were happy and surprised to receive the calls. A couple of the workmen showed up yet that afternoon, mentioning that Lord Fiske had stopped hiring them shortly after Bates had left his service. Furthermore, they all pointed out that repairs involving their specialties had been done over the years, but by unskilled hands.

That evening, Bates went into Fiske's study and pulled out his former master's domestic records. Even though he was now the caretaker, and only man on the estate, he couldn't force himself to sit in Fiske's chair and work at his desk. Instead, he carried the ledgers to a side desk, where he used to perform such tasks years ago, and studied his master's financial records...back when the man wasn't his master. It didn't take him long to note oddities.

While Fiske had been a rough and tumble sort, willing to consume rough and meager fare while on an expedition, the nobleman liked to treat himself while at home. Certainly, the records showed that he continued to purchase fine wine, cuts of beef and other delicacies, he also purchased unreasonably large quantities of fruits and vegetables...almost as if the man had been hosting a convention of vegetarians. Bates noted the day's discoveries in his journal, wrote a report, and sent it off to Earl Snidely. Again that night, he had odd dreams of hearing someone creeping about the estate.

The remainder of the week passed in much the same way; bringing the estate up to a proper level of function and reviewing Lord Fiske's expenditures. As with his first day of work, Bates continued to make odd discoveries. Every tradesman that labored on the property; the carpenters, stonemasons, electricians, plumbers and others, reported that crude upkeep had been performed. Also, Bates found more odd expenditures; the purchase of child-sized clothing, veterinary expenses, custom-made martial arts weapons and more. Of course, he dutifully reported all of these findings to the earl. After a week, he could come up with no further excuses to delay what he knew was his next step. He took a deep breath one morning and descended into the dungeons.

The dungeons held the storage spaces for the most valuable and fragile artifacts that Fiske had collected over the years, as well as the records he kept of the methods and efforts he used to obtain them. While the chamber in which these items were stored was carefully climate controlled and provided with lavish backups, the nobleman had stressed repeatedly that damage could still occur if the mansion's atmosphere was overly humid. With the furnaces running properly for over a week, Bates was ready to open this secret chamber.

Upon accessing the dungeon level, he became nervous. The place was a great deal more clean than the rest of the mansion had been. After a few moments, he told himself that because the dungeons, even outside of the storage area, were more sheltered than the above ground portions of the mansion, they would collect less grime. Determined, he stalked into the climate controlled area and soon lost himself in his former master's journal.

First, he read about a Mystical Monkey Monk, and a prophesy calling Fiske to seek out the world's brightest monkey to lead him to the stars. He then read about the Lotus Blade, and Fiske's belief that it was stored in a secret school in Japan. The hours flew by as Bates learned of the man's actions after he had left his service. He had just concluded that the time frame was too far back to explain Fiske's current whereabouts when motion outside the storage area pulled his gaze from the journals. Bates found himself staring at three, unhappy monkeys.

This was too much! It wasn't enough that Lord Fiske had taken up with these creatures, they were now squatting on his property! Bates looked around for something to pummel the ankle-biters with, but could find nothing. Shrugging, he decided that fisticuffs would have to do, but he suddenly stopped. One of the monkeys had keyed the entry code into the door while another gestured towards a drawer that Bates had left open, clearly wanting him to seal the fragile artifacts inside before they opened the door.

Clearly, they understood how much Lord Fiske valued such treasures. They weren't squatters, they were servants! The stealthy movements he had convinced himself he hadn't heard at night suddenly made sense!

"So, Lord Fiske left his property to you lot when he left?" Bates asked, as they filed into the room. He now realized that they wore small, Kung-fu uniforms, which explained some of Fiske's clothing expenditures.

The monkeys simply looked at him until finally, one gestured to him to follow. Deciding that he was already daft for trying to talk to the creatures, Bates followed them out of the storage chamber and deeper into the dungeons. They entered a room that was well lit and properly heated. Twenty small beds lined the walls, each with an associated wall-locker.

"So this is where Lord Fiske put you all up?" Bates asked.

The lead monkey nodded, then pointed first to himself, then one of the beds, followed by his two companions, then two more. He then waved at the rest of the beds and then pointed towards the door they had just entered.

"So the rest of you went with His Lordship when he left?" Bates asked. The monkey nodded.

"So, where did he go?" Bates asked. "Do you have any way of letting me know?"

The monkeys led him back to the storage room. Once inside, the one Bates had decided was the lead monkey opened a hidden panel and produced what appeared to be a scrapbook. Bates set it on a desk and opened it, to discover that it contained photos of Fiske in different settings, often showing that he had run afoul of some misadventure. While he was looking, the lead monkey placed a journal next to the scrapbook.

"So the answer to where Lord Fiske went, as well as what happened to him, are in these books?" Bates asked. The monkey shrugged and nodded at the same time.

"You think they are, but you can't be sure?" Now, the monkey nodded without the shrug.

"Wait a minute, I bet the three of you haven't had a proper meal for some time!" All three monkeys nodded, dejectedly.

"Fair enough then, we'll get a proper meal into you before anything else."

Bates didn't really know much about monkey cuisine, but he guessed that a vegetarian plate would be best for them. While he made a bit of haddock for himself, the monkeys seemed quite happy with the potatoes and carrots he prepared for them. To his shock, the creatures did the dishes, without prompting, once the meal was complete.

"If the three of you will help me keep the grounds, I can spend more time trying to find out where Fiske went," he offered, once the day's chores were done. The monkeys nodded, showing a great deal more energy than they had before.

The next few months were productive, yet nerve-wracking for Bates, and it was due to the monkeys. They were clearly intelligent, if not overly so. While they didn't have a great deal of skill at domestic tasks, they were hard workers considerate. The fact that Fiske had trained them to such a level meant that the former master of the estate must have tapped deeper recesses of the infernal monkey power he had been obsessed with. Bates struggled to decide just how much to reveal to Earl Snidely. Eventually, he reported that he had discovered three trained monkeys and was continuing to review Fiske's records. He chose to not tell the nobleman about the secret journals...at least until he had a chance to delve more into them. Should Montgomery Fiske remain alive, Bates was determined to locate him and brief him on the situation before informing the earl.

Winter gave way to Spring, the mansion and grounds evolved from presentable, to respectable, to immaculate, and Bates read the names "Han" and "Yono". Further study of Fiske's notes informed the servant that Fiske had become increasingly obsessed with defeating both Miss Possible and the lad...Ron Stoppable. Perhaps defeating was too light a term; it was clear that he wanted to destroy them both. Further study revealed that this Yono chap was some sort of demon that could grant a summoner a boon...although at a frightful cost. Again, Bates was forced to question what he really knew.

Bates knew that there were powers that didn't follow the science books; he had seen them himself. With this bit to start with, he was forced to concede that such powers must have a source. As such, perhaps this being, the Yono, made use of such folks that would get involved with him. It appeared that Fiske went off in search of some weapon, known as the Han, and failed to find it. His scrapbook and notebook didn't provide much information beyond pictures of a wrecked car, a wrecked boat, and notes about an infernal child. After that, Fiske's notes concentrated on the Yono.

Cross-referencing these sources with Fiske's expense ledger revealed that the nobleman had arranged for himself and a party of monkeys...with excavation equipment...to be transported to the Far East and smuggled into Japan. The very last notes detailed the Yakuza clan that Fiske had contacted to get the monkeys into the country.

There was no help for it. If Bates was going to determine what happened to Fiske, he was going to have to go to Japan. Fortunately, his years of accompanying the nobleman on various expeditions around the world had given him a fair number of contacts, plus he had the somewhat less than upright contacts detailed in Fiske's last journals. Once prepared, Bates prepared an abridged report for Earl Snidely, informing the nobleman that the last records indicated that Fiske traveled to Japan and that some of the people he planned on meeting were more than a little secretive.

Yet, another delay struck. Days after Snidely offered his approval for Bates to catch a flight, the very Earth was invaded! Great robots strode across the landscape, one coming uncomfortably close to the Fiske Estate. However, by a miracle, it took to the air and flew away. With news sources off line and power unreliable for several days...not to mention all commercial flights being canceled, it was well over another week before Bates learned what had happened; that the Possible Lass had lured the invaders to America for the blue fellow, Drakken, to destroy.

But the problems weren't over. Flights remained canceled, so Bates was in the den, watching the news with the monkeys, when the telly showed the ceremony honoring Drakken for saving the Earth. As the camera panned over the crowd, Bates dropped his teacup when the recognized the very rotund lass who had altered his former master, giving him his monkey features. Furthermore, sitting next to the woman was a stone statue with Fiske's likeness. Bates well remembered that Dr. Hall was infatuated with his former master, but why would she have a statue made that showed Monty in a moment of complete terror?

It was getting late, so when the coverage ended, Bates turned off the television and sought his bed. However, sleep eluded him for a very long time. There was something odd about Dr. Hall and the statue and Bates was sure that somehow, it was key to locating Fiske. Finally, he decided that he would attempt to contact Dr. Hall if he found no answers in Japan and managed to drift off into an unquiet slumber.

* * *

 _A/N:_

 _I would like to extend my thanks to Jimmy1201, CajunBear73, and Sentinel103 for assistance with dialog and concept._

 _Big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his ever-patient beta reading._


	2. The Search

James Bates had never believed that he would be so relieved to see the Fiske Estate again. The trip to Japan had been a waste of time...for the most part. He should have known that the Yakuza would be very reluctant to speak to anyone outside of their organization...even more with someone from outside of Japan...and still more so with someone representing a foreign nobleman. Still, a few bits of information had found their way to his ears, as well something in addition. It was time to decide just what these few hints and clues meant, what to admit to Earl Snidely, and then decide what to do next.

He directed the driver to park the cab by the servants' entrance...he still would not make use of the main entrance if he could avoid doing so...and stood back as the man unloaded his baggage. Paying the hefty fee, with a gratuity, he made a show of opening the door so that the cabbie would feel comfortable leaving him. Once the vehicle had vanished beyond the estates, three monkeys emerged to help him with his bags.

"I wish I could provide you lads with better news," Bates told the primates. "But I'd be lying if I did. Still, I did stumble on something that should make you a bit happier."

The monkeys didn't answer, but hauled his bags to his quarters before ushering him to the servants' kitchen, where a pot of tea was waiting him. He nodded his thanks, sat at the table and sipped the beverage while the small fellows watched him.

"Three months, and not much to show for it," he admitted. "Have the lot of you been well?"

The monkeys nodded, which made Bates conclude that the regular deliveries of foodstuffs that he had arranged for had continued to find their way to the estate.

"Well, we're going to need more food," Bates told them. "I couldn't find out much from the locals, but while stumping through an unoccupied valley, I found nine of your fellows."

The monkeys with him suddenly showed a great deal of interest and excitement.

"I've arranged transport for them here," Bates told them. "They should arrive the day after tomorrow."

The chief of the three monkeys pointed at a portrait of Montgomery Fiske on the wall.

"I didn't find him," Bates admitted, allowing just a touch of his frustration to sound through. "I think I got close to where the was...but I can't prove it."

One of the monkeys showed up with a tray of crumpets, a second one topped off his teacup, then all three settled around the table.

"Alright lads," Bates took the hint. "I'll tell you what happened. First, I got to Japan and looked up the company that Fiske had contacted to smuggle your fellows into the country. The folks there weren't exactly happy to talk to me, but I had proof that they had brought in certain containers and I was willing to present it to the authorities. It took me a few weeks, but eventually one of them spoke to me, off the record of course, and let me know that they had transported this shipping container from a port to a warehouse in southern Japan. I noted that this warehouse was located in a town not far from the geographical feature that Fiske had identified as Simian Canyon. Of course, this valley isn't known as such on any current maps. Since it was in the neighborhood, so to speak, I traveled to this town."

"The owner of the warehouse was polite and even friendly," Bates continued, after a bite of his snack. "At least until he learned which delivery I wanted to track. Suddenly, his mastery of the English Language seemed to be much less than it was, but I wouldn't let him brush me off. He eventually told me that his instructions were to unlock the container and leave his warehouse doors open, overnight. He then showed me the container; it had a couple of chemical toilets...and that was it. I'm guessing that your fellows carried their bedding, tools and spare food with them when they left."

A round of shrugs from his three companions answered him.

"Well, I decided to stay in the area a wee bit; so I bought some hiking gear and started to take long walks through that canyon. A funny thing, this canyon is between two ridges that lead up to the peak of this mountain. Every time I started to get up towards the top of that mountain, I'd run into someone who was very polite, spoke perfect English, and who would inform me that I was getting close to a private school. They would always tell me that they don't welcome visitors and that it would be best if I did my hiking farther down the valley. Of course, this was more than just a day's work...it had taken me a few more weeks. Don't look at me like that, I'm getting older and it takes these old legs a bit to recover after long slogs. Anyway, after the third time I had been turned back down the hill, I spent my recuperation time reviewing Fiske's journals and noted that a place he hated, called Yamanouchi School, was somewhere near the top of that very mountain. Of course, I was about to go up there and demand that they answer some questions, private property or not, but that was when I ran into your fellows."

He paused to look at his audience. Strangely enough, telling the small creatures about his efforts made them seem more worthwhile.

"They had probably saw me on all three of my previous walks," he told the raptly attentive audience. "But they seemed a little nervous to actually come up and let me see them. Anyway, I had just gotten out of line of site of that town when several monkeys, all wearing clothing much like yours, surrounded me and led me to a cluster of small huts they had built. They're no more capable of speaking than you are, but when I asked them, they let me know that they had followed Lord Fiske. I asked them if they knew where he was, but they all shook their heads. After that, I asked them where they had last seen him and they pointed up the mountain, towards the school."

"Of course, that made me more determined than ever to walk right up there and demand more answers, but when I said so, they all headed me off! I got the idea that they wanted nothing to do with this Yamanouchi place, so I asked them about some of the other names that I had gleaned from Fiske's writings. When I said, 'Kim Possible', the barely reacted at all. When I said 'Ron Stoppable', they all appeared rather nervous..."

Bates noted that those monkeys present with him also looked nervous.

"Well, then I said the name 'Yamanouchi' and they all looked frightened. Then I asked about the Yono, and they were all terrified! I then asked them where this Yono chap could be found, and only one could bring himself to do anything. This fellow led me deeper into the canyon, where the ground appeared to be all torn up. When I asked for a shovel, so that I could dig up whatever had been uncovered, he pushed me away from the place! Well, we went back to his companions and I asked them if they would like to come back here. They all nodded."

"Of course, it takes some time and effort to arrange to have nine monkeys, who aren't supposed to be in Japan, transported back to merry old England. It took me a great deal of time, effort and money for this; while I had contacts with the folks who had gotten the lads into Japan, they weren't all that happy with me. Eventually, I got them to agree to it, but that left me without a great deal of the money I had budgeted for my investigation. It still took a few weeks to actually see them all off, and I spent most of that time debating my next move. I also had a visitor at my room, and that wasn't all that pleasant."

"I can't go on another jaunt just yet," he informed them. "I've drained Fiske's accounts too much and it's going to take a spot of time for his estate to recover. Instead, my next move is to make contact with Dr. Hall and see if that statue really is Fiske. Once I confirm this, I'll see if there's any way to recover him. If not, perhaps she knows where he is at. In the meantime, the lads will show up sometime tomorrow, so we have to prepare for them."

The monkeys needed no prompting; they quickly got up and made their way to the dungeons, where Bates assumed that they were preparing for their fellows. Bates contacted the local grocer and arranged for an increase in the vegetable and fruit deliveries. After that, he debated his next report to Earl Snidely. He decided to admit to finding the monkeys and a monastery that wouldn't allow him to approach. Perhaps the nobleman would be able to use his influence to pry some answers from this facility.

* * *

The next few weeks proved to be more than frustrating for James Bates. He had no trouble welcoming the rest of Fiske's monkey's back to the mansion and getting them settled in. With more monkeys assisting with the upkeep, the caretaker was able to devote still more time to managing Fiske's estates, which meant that the incomes grew. However, he was unable to contact, or even track down, Dr. Amy Hall.

In retrospect, he should have realized this. She was a criminal, after all, and by definition she would be difficult to find. James Bates did not have a great deal of experience dealing with the criminal element, so he wasn't able to pierce the veil of secrecy that the geneticist had woven around herself. After a couple of months of futile attempts to establish communication with her, Bates decided that it was time for some face to face contact, and he had a target that was reasonably close by. He hired a mechanic to make sure that Fiske's car was in top operating condition and took a drive north.

* * *

"I don't get many visitors to me island," Duff Killigan noted, as the two men sat across the dining room table from each other in the Scotsman's castle. "An' I'm sure that this isn't a social visit. Yer not jest here for a bit o' company, are ye?"

"You're quite right," Bates nodded. "As you can probably guess, I have visited you in order to ask your help for my former master."

"Monty? What's the codger up to, these days?"

"Nobody knows," Bates told him. "He vanished months ago."

"Eh?" Killigan gasped. "Ye don't think those aliens took him away, do ye?"

"No," Bates shook his head. "He vanished well before that. I was hoping that you could help me locate him...or at least try to determine his fate."

"I'll help as I'm able," Duff told him. "But me and him weren't all that close. In fact, the two o' us went against each other once, when we were both trying to get our hands on a chip in a wee rodent's belly. Still, I've no hard feelings towards him. 'twas just a job."

"Well, I was hoping that you could help me find Dr. Amy Hall," Bates told him.

"DNAmy?" Killigan asked. "Aye, that makes sense. Never had anything to do with th' lass meself, but rumors get 'round. She was supposed t' be barmy over Monty, so it makes sense that she'd be keeping track o' him."

"Can you find her?" Bates asked.

"I'll have to try," Duff shrugged. "Jest because she's a villain doesn't mean I know her. We don't have a fellowship, or anything like that, but I can ask a few folk, here and there. Am I assumin' right that ye'll be willing t' pay her for information on Monty?"

"Of course!"

"That's what I'll dew," Killigan decided. "Once ye've gone, I'll put out werd that there's someone willing t' pay for an interview. That shewd get her attention...if she wants t' be found."

"Once I'm gone?" Bates lifted an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Aye, we all have secrets," Killigan explained. "And I can let ye know if I hear anything."

"I take it that...well...villains can be hard to find." Bates commented.

"Of course," Killigan acted as if he were explaining something obvious to a child. "Villains who are easy to find don't last very long. If she's gone to ground and doesn't want ta be found, she won't be found from across th' sea. Still, yer gonna have to answer me a question afore I help ye."

"And that would be?"

"Why are ye lookin' fer Amy?" Duff's expression was curious...calculating. "Sure, she had a shine to th' man, but I know that his main rival t' be Kim Possible and the lad that goes with her. Ye can find th' tew of them easy enough...why try t' find someone who doesn't want tew be found?"

"I want to avoid...the celebrities," Bates declared, thinking that Killigan was a great deal more clever than he let on.

"Aye," the big man smiled, knowingly. "Ye don't want anyone t' know yer on the hunt, do ye?"

"I'm trying to not let just anybody know," Bates answered.

"Well, yer secret's safe with me," Killigan chuckled. "I always liked a gewd mystery. Just make sure ye tell me what became o' th' man when ye finally find out."

Agreeing, Bates left for the drive back to the Fiske Estate, feeling guilty at how much he was beginning to consider the place his home. However, any questions about his role in affairs was quashed the next day, when he received a surprise visit from Earl Snidely.

* * *

While the roles of host and guest were reversed, James Bates felt just as uncomfortable as he had back in the Earl's office, months ago. They now sat across Fiske's formal dining table from each other, as Bates wasn't about to sit in the lord's chair, and also wouldn't allow another to do so. While Snidely's gaze had been businesslike back then, it was now quite stern.

"Mister Bates, let me be completely blunt with you," the earl finally broke the awkward silence. "While I have no reason to believe that you are embezzling Fiske's incomes and I have every reason to believe that you are making every effort to locate him, I suspect that you are being somewhat less than forthright with me when you report your progress."

Bates tried, and failed, to hide a nervous gulp.

"I see that my suspicions have some merit," Snidely noted. "Now, your last report stated that you had tracked Fiske's movements first to Japan, then to an area that held some sort of monastery with which he had conflict in the past. However, those who currently occupy this facility turned you away as a stranger. You reported this to me, hoping that as an official representative of a government friendly to Japan, I could request that the Japanese Government compel this institution to answer your questions. This was honest and proper of you. However, you cleverly didn't report on two issues."

Bates again tried to conceal a gulp.

"First, what was Monty's disagreement with this institution?"

"I don't know the entire story," Bates answered, feeling sweat start to bead on his brow.

"Mr. Bates," Snidely sighed, with exaggerated patience. "I have trusted you to perform your tasks...both to manage the estates and to search for Lord Fiske. While I have no doubt that you are working hard in both endeavors, you've been less that fully honest with me on the second. Now, tell me, what do you know about Fiske's conflict with this institution?"

"M'lord Fiske attempted to take several items from it," Bates admitted.

"And why is this?"

"He believed that they held the key to mastering the Mystical Monkey Power that he was obsessed with," Bates told him. "Do you mind if I fetch his journal? It has more details."

"Very well, but no delays."

"Of course not," Bates rang a small bell, which brought one of the monkeys from elsewhere in the castle. Smiling slightly at Snidely's slightly shocked look, he instructed the monkey to fetch the journal from Fiske's study.

"So, this is one of the monkeys you found hiding here?" Snidely asked, once the small primate had scurried off.

"Yes, M'lord." Bates chose to not divulge any information that wasn't specifically requested.

"And it seems to be quite well trained..." Snidely was clearly prompting him for more information.

"They all are," Bates nodded. "The lad who just left seems to be their leader. They aren't literate, and they can't speak, but they can perform simple tasks, like fetching and cleaning. They understand our language, even if they can't speak it."

"And they follow your commands?" More prompting from the nobleman.

"They are loyal to Lord Fiske," Bates told him. "And they understand that I am both the caretaker of his home, and am trying to find out what became of him. They do as I tell them because they see that as a way to get their master back."

"Reasonable..." Snidely commented, but stopped speaking when the monkey returned, struggling to carry a large book.

"One moment, M'lord," Bates requested, then quickly flipped to one of the pages that he had previously marked. "Ah. Roughly two years ago, M'lord Fiske learned of an ancient sword called the Lotus Blade, which he believed to be held in this monastery. According to his notes, possession of this blade would increase his mastery of the Mystical Monkey Power, and grant him additional powers, as well. While he apparently managed to get his hands on the blade, the guardians took it from him and forced him to flee."

"So, such guardians are not about to let anyone associated with Fiske back onto the grounds," Snidely concluded.

"There's more, M'lord," Bates decided that a little unsolicited information would help dispel some doubts. "A little over a year ago, M'lord Fiske learned of some weapon...called..." he paused his speech while looking for another point he had bookmarked. "Ah! The Han. He sneaked into Yamanouchi and stole a scroll that led him to a series of temples in Asia. According to his journal, he was confronted and defeated at the last temple, which was built into a live volcano. A few months after that, he learned of a being called the Yono, who was a counterpart to the Han. He didn't record everything in writing, but his journal..." again, a pause while he looked through the book. "Shows that he believed that this Yono character could be summoned from a place called Simian Canyon, which is located on the mountainside below this Yamanouchi Monastery."

"Which led you to investigate the area," Snidely concluded.

"Yes, M'lord."

Earl Snidely gazed at him for a time, long enough and intent enough to set Bates to squirming just a touch. "Very well," the nobleman finally spoke. "We'll get back to your investigation in a moment. However, I have another question that you must answer: Why did you leave Japan when you did?"

"M'lord?"

"You were on site!" Snidely growled at him. "You were close to the answers you were seeking! It would have made more sense for you to stay there while I worked the diplomatic channels from this end. Instead, you traveled all the way back to England! Why did you give up the chase when the quarry was in sight?"

Bates sighed and rang the bell again.

"Have your fellows...all of your fellows...come present themselves here," he instructed the monkey.

"There are two reasons," Bates then told Snidely, as the monkey scampered off again. "The first reason is that I located nine monkeys that had accompanied M'lord Fiske to Japan. I've sent for them so that you can see I'm being honest. They were hiding and near to starving in Simian Canyon. Arranging their transport back here, and feeding them while making the arrangements, burned through the funds I had earmarked for this trip."

"Poppycock!" Snidely snapped at him. "Spending additional funds, even if you had to sell off some of Fiske's property to cover it, would have been perfectly justified to learn of his fate!"

"That's where the second reason comes in," Bates told him, now refusing to be intimidated. "You see, shortly after I found the monkeys...or I should say shortly after they revealed themselves to me...I received a visitor at breakfast. It was a surprisingly large young man; polite and fluent in English. He told me that the residents from the top of the mountain understood why I was in the area and that I should just give up my quest. He stated that they would go to unpleasant lengths to make sure that wrongs that were now buried were never unearthed again."

"And you let him discourage you?" Snidely quirked an eyebrow. "I thought you were built of sterner stuff."

"What good would my disappearance have done?" Bates snapped at the man. "I admit that I was ignorant of Japan before visiting, so I suspect that you are, as well. As dense as the population is, there are surprisingly wild and rural areas; Yamanouchi Mountain, which contains Simian Canyon, is one of these. A band of nine monkeys was able to hide out there for over a year! If I were to vanish in the wilds, and my body were to be found somewhere in that canyon, who would question that I fell down a cliff or became lost and died of exposure? Then, nobody would be searching for Fiske!"

"You make a good point," Snidely conceded, as a dozen monkeys shuffled into the great hall. "At your age...our age...one should think with the brain and not with emotions. You were right in clearing out of the area when you could." A ghost of a smile flitting across his face. "In fact, you seemed to have uncovered a certain link between this Yamanouchi place and Fiske's fate."

Bates didn't see fit to comment on the observation.

"But these monkeys," Snidely continued. "Which were the ones that were here when you took up your duties, and which were the ones that you found in Japan?"

"Lads," Bates spoke to the primates. "Those who accompanied Lord Fiske to Japan, walk to the foot of the table, those who remained here the whole time, go to the head of the table."

Three monkeys walked to the head of the table and stood near Lord Fiske's chair. The remaining nine walked to the foot of the table. All stood straight, as servants awaiting their master's review.

"Amazing!" Snidely remarked. "They not only understand English, they understand the concepts of the head and the foot of the table."

"Aye, M'lord," Bates agreed. "These are not normal monkeys."

"Very well, Mister Bates," Snidely returned his attention to the servant. "I can see that you didn't hold back anything vital. You are clearly trying to serve your master, even as you try to learn his fate. It was not my intention to place you in a position where your loyalty towards Fiske would conflict with your obedience to me. I assure you that I also want to find out what has happened to Monty."

Bates simply nodded. "Are you finished with the monkeys, M'lord?"

"What? Oh! Yes indeed."

"Lads, please go back to your duties," Bates instructed his charges. With polite bows, they all filed out of the great hall.

"Amazing," Snidely murmured again. "However, I must discuss your duties some more. Perhaps it's best that the monkeys...these lads as you call them...are not here. From your reports, it is clear to me that Yamanouchi holds the key to knowing Fiske's fate."

Bates nodded again.

"Now that I have your full report, I will work through Her Majesty's diplomatic channels. However, I am beginning to suspect the worst."

Again, Bates nodded.

"I am going to take the distasteful action that I discussed with you, previously," Snidely went on. "I am going to manipulate events so that Fiske's heir will be prepared when it comes time for him to take up his legacy. This could take many, many years. Will you be able to attend to these duties, for the near future?"

"Aye, M'lord," Bates assured him. "There's noting pulling me away from the mansion."

"Good man," Snidely sighed. "This is probably a very lonely posting for you."

"It's not so bad," Bates countered. "The lads are a big help keeping the place tidy, and whenever I fancy a bit of company, there's a pub in the local village. There's a trail out the back, so it's a brisk walk to enjoy a pint or two with the local folk."

"Fair enough," the earl sighed. "But I want it understood that you can use Fiske's vehicle for the occasional, personal errand. It looks like you're going to be at this post for several years, until the young lad is ready to become the next Lord Fiske. In the meantime, should you weary of this job, let me know."

"I certainly will, M'lord."

"In the meantime, I think I shall take Lord Fiske's journal with me, at least for now," Snidely rose to his feet, scooped up the aforementioned book and placed it in his briefcase.

"You will return it at some point, M'lord?" Bates asked, also rising to his feet.

"Yes, it is part of the Fiske estate, but I'd like a chance to double check just how forthcoming you've been with me," Snidely allowed a bit of a stern look to pass over his features.

Bates dropped his gaze, feigning contrition.

"Will there be anything else?" The nobleman asked.

"M'lord, I would like to investigate paths other than Yamanouchi," Bates admitted.

"Such as..." Snidely prompted.

"There were others with whom M'lord Fiske interacted," Bates pointed out. "The rotund geneticist who altered his hands and feet, the blue fellow who stopped the invasion. I'd like to contact them and see if they can offer any news."

"Fair enough," Snidely nodded. "But keep me posted. I want to know where you intend to go, who you intend to meet, and what you've found."

"Of course, M'lord." Bates saw the man to the front door, and then to his vehicle. Upon returning to the mansion, he was confronted by a dozen, curious monkeys.

"I know lads," he told them. "I didn't tell him about the second journal, the one that identified Yamanouchi as a ninja school rather than a monastery, and with the information about the Yono."

At the name, the monkeys who had accompanied to Japan flinched in horror.

"I also didn't tell him about how much that second journal ranted about Miss Possible's companion, that Stoppable Lad. Nor did I tell him about my suspicions of that statue that the doctor had with her. No lads, there's something odd going on...something that goes beyond Fiske going to Yamanouchi and vanishing, and I want to find out what before I let the earl know."

The lead monkey cocked his head in curiosity.

"If Lord Fiske is still of this world, I want to find him. If he's in physical or emotional distress, I want to see if he can be helped a bit before Snidely questions him. If he's...if he's gone...I want to know the truth and let Snidely know that it was a dignified end. I owe Fiske that much, at least."

While the monkeys had been helpful before, this speech seemed to make them even more so. They were proactive in maintaining the estate and set a watch at all times. Over the next few days, whenever Bates felt like walking to the pub for an evening pint, one or two would accompany him to the outskirts of the village, then rejoin him for the journey back to the mansion. They also started to drill in martial arts, showing a skill that both impressed and frightened the servant.

Earl Snidely must have been active, as two days after their meeting, Bates received a telegram from the Japanese Government, informing him that he was no longer allowed into the country. The servant smiled to himself, realizing that this proved some sort of connection between the school and the government, and the fact that Fiske's fate was one that could potentially embarrass the school. He then reported the development to the earl.

Two weeks after meeting with Earl Snidely, Bates was looking out of the window when the entire estate seemed to be plunged into an early evening. As this was England, cloudy weather wasn't unusual, but only the mansion itself seemed to be shaded. Looking at the surrounding lands, he realized that the building was in the center of a bomb-shaped shadow. Looking up, he saw a plaid dirigible descending towards the grounds. Bemused, the went outside, backed by his primate companions, to meet Duff Killigan.

"Greetings, laddie!" The big man called from the gondola. "Aye learned a bit an' thought I'd come down ta speak t' ye, rather than risk letting someone ye' don't want knowin' about this wee endeavor learnin' somethin' ye'd rather they didn't!"

"I...appreciate the gesture," Bates tried to sound sincere. "But I don't know how to moor a dirigible!"

"Ahh...jest tie 'er to a tree and ayl leave 'er runnin'."

Much to his bemusement, Bates soon found himself playing host to the Scotsman, as the blimp tugged at a tree in front of the mansion. While it was hardly a discrete visit, Bates decided that Snidely wouldn't be able to accuse him of holding secret meetings.

"Aye tell ye, DNAmy has gone t' ground," Duff informed him. "Aye pewt out some feelers, hints that ay'd be willin' t' take on some werk fer money...the sert o' werk she used to pay t' have done. Nothin'! Aye also pewt out some feelers that I wanted some engineered rodents t' keep me greens...the sert o' think she always loved t' dew. Nothin'!"

"So, that avenue of investigation is closed to me," Bates concluded.

"Nothin' o' the sert!" Duff countered him. "Aye still have me ins! Doctor Drakken an' me trade emails every week about th' latest episode o' Agony County!"

"Isn't that an improbable romance show aimed at teens?"

"Tis a fine drama!" Killigan roared, pounding on the table. "And mind ye' watch yer comments, less I decide not to help ye!"

"My apologies," Bates quickly conceded. "But how is this helpful?"

"Drakken used t' have a shine for the lass," Killigan chuckled. "But she wasn't interested in him. I'm willing t' bet that he keeps a wee bit of an eye out fer where she's at, but he won't be willin t' write. I kin arrange a meeting fer yew t' talk to either him or th' green lass that's with him."

"That...that would be most kind!" Bates thanked him.

"Eh, like I said before, aye like a gewd mystery. Now, yew don't deal with th' criminal element all that much, sew I'd like t' give ye some advice. Amy keeps nasty critters t' dew her fighting fer her, so when ye track th' lass down, yer gonna want some muscle t' back ye up. Ol' Monty used his monkeys, will they fight fer ye?"

From around the two men, chitters and shrieks of confirmation sounded.

"Alright," Duff nodded. "Now, Amy's probably in America, sew do ye have an idea how to get the wee fighters over there?"

"Fiske used some shipping containers, which he outfitted to hold them for a few days," Bates answered. "There's one in the local village."

"Okay, I'll give ye a bit more advice," Killigan nodded. "Let's prepare it, and move it to me castle, where the bobbies won't be looking. Head to America and have yer meetings. If ye track Amy down, give me a call and I'll send the lads over."

"Do you think I'll need to use violence against Amy?"

"It's better to be ready and not need to, than th' other way 'round. Besides, these wee fellows are sneaky and small, they can get into places that yew can't. If ye can find her, call me and yew can decide tew use them fer spying or fighting."

It wasn't something they could implement immediately. They decided to send the shipping container to Killigan's castle before preparing it, as Earl Snidely was probably keeping an eye on the Fiske estate. Once it had been delivered, Bates forwarded the Scotsman the funds he needed to refurbish it, then took another trip to Scotland, this time with three monkeys in tow, in order to stock it for a trip.

After this was done, he diverted incomes to fund his trip. He was somewhat honest with Earl Snidely, reporting that Dr. Drakken had been a known associate of Fiske's, and Bates was trying to set up a meeting. After all, he couldn't return to Japan, so he was going to have to explore other leads. It was with a great deal of relief that he received Snidely's approval. Eventually, he had set aside enough to not only fund his trip, but to pay smugglers to deliver the monkeys, should they be needed. With a heavy sigh, noting that Fiske had now been gone for over two years, he instructed Killigan to set up the meeting with Drakken, then booked a flight to America.

His first stop was in New York City, where Dr. Drakken had settled since receiving a blanket pardon, after saving the world from the Lowardian Invasion. Drakken and Shego continued to enjoy a certain celebrity status, but Bates hoped that he could arrange for a more low key meeting. Killigan had provided a special phone number, which allowed Bates to contact Drakken and set up a meeting at one of those chain coffee shops that seemed to be located on each corner.

He arrived early and ordered some tea...which proved to be a disappointment. He didn't particularly like coffee, so he couldn't tell the difference between the good and the bad, but he deduced that this particular chain's ability to brew coffee must be much greater than its ability to prepare tea. Still, sipping the beverage allowed him to look inconspicuous as he waited. Shortly before the appointed time, Drakken and Shego arrived. While they were disguised, someone looking specifically for them were able to pick them out. The two ordered some silly brew, which contained as much flavoring as coffee, and joined him at his table.

"So, Duff tells me that you're interested in what happened to Monty," Drakken noted. Bates couldn't answer, being completely fascinated with the flower petals that showed from under the man's jacket collar.

"Hey, it's not polite to peek," Drakken complained.

"Oh, quite right...sorry," Bates gained control of himself. "But yes, I wish to locate Lord Fiske, or at least learn his fate. Mr. Killigan assures me that the two of you worked with both him and Dr. Hall on occasion."

Bates caught Drakken's flinch when he mentioned the geneticist.

"Why are you asking after Amy?" Shego asked him.

"I know that she performed the alterations to his body," Bates answered. "Furthermore, I understand that she had some sort of an infatuation with him. The fact that she had a statue of him at your recognition ceremony tells me that this infatuation hasn't faded."

"So you're trying to track down someone who was probably tracking him," Shego surmised.

"It makes sense," Drakken nodded.

"Can the two of you help me locate her?" Bates asked. In answer, the two of them gave each other an uneasy look.

"There's some reason that you don't want me to find Amy!" Bates concluded. "Or is it that you don't want me to find Lord Fiske?"

"You have to understand something," Drakken's tone was firm, even if it was apologetic. "We've finally found something close to being happy and content. My inventions work, and I'm actually making a great deal of money from them."

"Because it's legitimate, we can enjoy the cash we're making," Shego added. "Doc here makes things and I decide how to use them. We're a solid team."

"And you're concerned that Fiske will disturb your prosperity?"

"Not directly," Drakken told him. "You see, during the occasional conversations we had with the man, we learned that he was obsessed with defeating Kim Possible's sidekick, the Stoppable boy."

"I don't understand your reluctance," Bates admitted. "It's now about a teenage boy?"

"Not just any teenage boy," Shego sounded nervous, looking to make sure that there were no customers close enough to overhear. "Stoppable's...different now. He's not the sort that you want to mess with."

"I still fail to see the issue," Bates plead with her. "If he has become more capable, what is the problem with a feud between he and Fiske?"

"Because it could threaten what we've built up!" Drakken snapped back at him. "What if it turns out that Amy has Monty under wraps someplace, and you manage to free him? Look at this from Possible's and Stoppable's point of view; if one old foe can emerge and threaten them, what will prevent other old foes from doing the same. Those two kids aren't what they once were...they're dangerous if they choose to be so. If Monty re-emerges and causes trouble, even only slight trouble, are they going to move against us so we don't do the same thing?"

"So, you refuse to help me," Bates concluded. "And this is based on the probability that M'lord Fiske will wish to take up his old feud...within the small probability that he's still alive...within the small probability that Dr. Hall either has him or knows where he is."

"It may sound silly, but silly things come up to bite us," Shego pointed out. "So no, we're not going to tell you where to find Amy."

"Monty was an odd fellow," Drakken added. "Which is a powerful statement coming from a man with flower petals around his neck and a vine growing out of his back. He stirred up some things that science cannot explain...and somehow that Stoppable kid became involved in it. I finally have the recognition that I've craved for years! I'm not going to let anything threaten it!"

"So, that's your final answer?" Bates demanded. "The two of you, who repelled an alien invasion, are frightened by what a teenage boy may do if I somehow manage to find my master?"

"Some things should remain buried," Shego growled at him. "Fiske sealed his own fate, whatever that is, so leave it be. Don't let those who are gone mess up those who are still around."

"I wish I could say that it was a pleasant meeting," Bates snarled at the two, as he got to his feet. "But that would be lying. Good day to you both!"

With that, Bates stormed out of the coffee house, without a look back. His face looking like an impending hurricane, he stalked the long walk back to his hotel room. Once he locked the door behind him, he allowed his expression, and his composure, to drop. While he was disheartened by the answer he had received, he was nowhere near as upset as he had let on. He opened his tablet and sent a message to Killigan, requesting that he continue to ask Drakken for information. He then made arrangements to travel to Colorado.

* * *

"Alright, that's it for today! Hit the showers and keep out of trouble! Everyone back tomorrow, and you better be ready to show me a whole lot more than I saw today!"

Along with the rest of the team, Ron Stoppable allowed himself to relax a little before pulling off his helmet and wiping the sweat from his face. He understood the need to drill, to get into peak condition, but he just wished that the process wasn't so painful. Still, today marked another week gone by and despite the coach's constant clamoring, they were all close to ready for the season opener. Tucking his helmet under an arm, he joined the throng of sweaty, young men on the path from the practice field to the athletic center. Sure, he had a date with KP set for tonight, but right now, he was only thinking of water...cold water to drink and hot, soapy water to clean himself off.

Life had gotten better...and worse...for him since his freshman year. Better, since he was now a red-shirt freshman, he wasn't subject to the constant hazing from all of the upperclassmen. Worse, because he was now on the varsity team, greater things were expected of him. Still, he had learned his place and his routine; he waited while the upperclassmen got their showers, then cleaned himself and got dressed. Now that he was clean, had a chance to catch his breath and re-hydrate, he was thinking of food and some couple time with his girlfriend. There was a smile on his face as he left the locker room.

"Mister Stoppable!" The smile remained on Ron's face when he turned to face whomever had just shouted at him. That smile went away very swiftly when he saw who it was.

"I know you!" Ron snapped at the older man. "You're Bats...or Bates...or some other name like that! You worked for Fiske when he tried to kill me...the first time!"

"Ah...yes," the Englishman admitted. "James Bates, at your service. I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

"Mind?" Ron was incredulous. "Why should I mind? The last time I saw you, you helped trap me in a castle with a loony!"

"Mister Stoppable, you are quite safe here," Bates tried to point out. "Although I freely admit that I was wrong, those years ago. I should have prevented Lord Fiske from making an attempt upon your life..or at least called the proper authorities. We are on your home turf now, and you have teammates to assist you...even if you needed it."

Ron made an honest effort to tell the man off. In reality, he had every reason to just walk away, but for some reason he just couldn't. The man had a look of desperation, the look that so many people had just before KP did some impossible task and saved the world for them.

"There's some benches outside," Ron told him. "We can have a talk in private...while in view of plenty of other people. If you try anything, I'm calling the police."

"Very well, lead the way," Bates was tempted to ask what he could possibly be charged with, should the younger man contact the authorities, but decided that getting him to talk was too much of a blessing to complicate. He observed Fiske's old nemesis as he led the way outside of the athletic center. While he had clearly grown and bulked up in the years since Bates had last seen him, he didn't appear to be the sort that could intimidate the likes of Drakken and Shego merely by existing.

"So, what do you want to know?" Stoppable asked, taking a seat without waiting for the older man to be seated.

"I want to ask you about Lord Fiske," Bates told him, deciding that the boy had no intention of showing proper manners. Bates could hardly blame him.

"I guessed as much," Stoppable snorted. "Could you try to be a little more specific?"

"Very well," Bates sighed. "He vanished over two years ago, I know that he considered you a hated nemesis, so..."

"So you think I did something to him?" Ron glared at the man. "I didn't do anything to him. What happened to him was his own doing."

"So you know his fate!" James struggled to keep the enthusiasm from his voice. "Mr. Stoppable, please tell me what became of Lord Fiske, it's my duty to the Queen to learn what..."

"Hey Ron!" A cheerful voice sounded from behind the two. "Talking to another reporter?"

Both men spun to see the newcomer, who proved to be a pretty, and familiar, redhead. As soon as Kim Possible's gaze fell on Bates, her cheerful smile vanished.

"Ah, Miss Possible," Bates rose to his feet and inclined his head, politely. "I see that you recognize me."

"I can't say that I recall the name," Kim growled. "But I know who you are."

"I was hoping that we could put some unpleasantness behind us," James offered. Kim just fixed him with a cold stare as she approached to stand next to Stoppable...who had also risen to his feet. Their body language was unmistakable...they stood close to each other and faced him...joining forces against the servant of the old foe.

"A lot of people want to put unpleasantness aside," Kim told him. "Usually because they've already committed unpleasant acts and don't want to face any consequences."

"Letting bygones be bygones is easy when you've done the bygoning," Ron added. "But don't want to get bygonned in return."

"Fair comments," Bates allowed. "But, could the two of you give me a few minutes of your time?"

"A few minutes sounds fair," Kim shrugged and took a seat. Ron followed suit, taking up enough room that Bates was forced to stand. Well enough, he wanted to face them for this, anyway.

"As I was explaining to your companion," he addressed the young woman. "Fiske vanished over two years ago. He left behind an estate that needs to be cared for, and I've been appointed to that task."

"How horrible," Kim's sarcasm was obvious. "You get to live in a luxurious mansion."

"Only until a new lord is found!" He snapped in return. "You may think I'm milking this situation for my gain, but it isn't the case. Fiske wasn't always the psychopath that the two of you dealt with. I understand that I didn't take the proper steps when he started to...change. He used to be a good man, and I owe his memory of that good man to find out his fate. If it means placing a memorial in his great hall, showing the date and circumstances of his death, so be it. If it means knowing that he's in some institution somewhere, and unable to take up his duties as a landowner and nobleman, at least there will be answers!"

"Some questions shouldn't be answered," Kim told him. "I hated hearing that when I was a girl, but it's true. Please, just accept the fact that Monty's beyond your reach and let it go."

"So, did one of you two kill him?" Bates asked, although there was no hatred in his voice. "I can understand that he might have placed you in a position where you had no choice."

"Neither of us harmed him," Ron answered, quietly. "He did it to himself."

"Did what!" James pleaded for them to tell him. "What happened to Fiske?"

"He called up the devil himself," Ron finally told the man. "Or at least his pet monkey. When that deal went sour, the devil took his due from Monty."

"So, Fiske is dead?" Bates tried to force confirmation from the teens.

"We don't really know," Kim admitted. "We saw a stone statue of him, on some temple, sinking into the Earth."

"And you think this...statue...was really him?" Bates asked.

"That devil had turned KP, Rufus, and others into stone," Ron snarled at him. "As well as a bunch of Fiske's monkeys when it missed a shot at my little sister. So yes, I think that it turned him into stone."

"But Miss Possible is here now, flesh and blood," Bates protested. "And apparently none the worse for wear. I'm not saying that what M'lord did wasn't a crime...but do his actions warrant a death sentence?"

"Possibly," Kim grumbled. "But it doesn't make much difference. That devil that Monty called up was the one that turned us to stone...once he was defeated, he turned everyone back...except Fiske. Fiske got turned into stone and taken away. We haven't seen...I won't say the name...since. There's no way to turn him back."

"But if he could be recovered!" Bates pressed. "If that stone statue that used to be him could be brought back to his mansion, at least there would be some closure. At least I would have the answer."

Kim and Ron looked at each other for what seemed to be a long time. Finally, both shrugged in a manner that told Bates they didn't like what they were about to do, but that they'd like the alternative even less.

"Fine," the redhead growled at him. "I'm sure you saw Amy at Drakken's award ceremony. She had the statue...or she had one made that looked exactly like him. I don't know how she got her hands on it and I don't want to know. But if you can track her down, you're welcome to it."

"The last we heard, she had moved back into her old lair on Mount Middleton, above the ski lodge," Stoppable told him. "She hasn't been making trouble, so we haven't bothered her. If she has Fiske up there, fine! If not, it's up to you to keep looking."

"That was a true favor the two of you have done for me," Bates honestly thanked them. "As you say, I owe you one."

"You can repay us by not causing trouble," Kim told him. "There are things beyond science here, things that are worse than anything men have ever done. Just get the statue, move it to his mansion, and put an end to things."

* * *

Despite the fact that James Bates spent most of his life as the gentleman's gentleman, able to guide his employer and master through the intricacies of society, he was more than able to live roughly when the situation demanded it. Upon learning the physical description of Dr. Hall's last known location, he reviewed some topographic maps and determined the best locations from which to observe Hall's location. Fortunately, most were on public land.

Soon, he had acquired a pickup with four wheel drive and sufficient camping equipment to provide him with comfortable camps, even in the increasingly cold weather of the higher altitudes. For the next several weeks, he set a series of camps from which he was able to observe the rough location that the youngsters had provided him. He moved every few days, both to reduce the chance that he was being observed and to provide him with fresh angles from which observe his target. After three weeks, and a few snowfalls, he gained the break he was looking for. He didn't know what to call the creature he observed from several kilometers away; but it was clearly not normal wildlife. It was large, bipedal, furred, and disappeared into a cave that was hard to spot.

Despite the long search, Bates didn't simply assume that he had found his quarry; there was a strong likelihood that one of Dr. Hall's creatures had escaped her influence and was living in the area. Instead, he moved his location again and focused upon the opening into which the creature had vanished. Two days later, under the cover of darkness, three bipedal creatures, accompanied by six quadrupeds, left the opening and made their way down the mountain. James didn't bother trying to track them; he continued to observe the opening. Several hours later, shortly before dawn, the creatures returned, with the quadrupeds wearing harnesses and carrying crates.

That was enough for James Bates. He sent a message to Duff Killigan, requesting that he ship the 'cargo' to Middleton. After that, he purchased additional camping equipment and supplies for the monkeys who would soon be joining him. Somehow, he knew that his master, or what his master had become, was somewhere inside the cave he had been observing. It was time to send the wee lads in to check out the situation, and if violence was called for...so be it.

* * *

 _A/N: As always, major thanks go out to Joe Stoppinghem for his beta reading._


	3. The Recovery

James Bates knew that smuggling didn't follow a fixed schedule, so it was obvious that getting his master's monkeys to the center of America wasn't going to be quick. Now, it was a case of intellectual knowledge finally imposing itself upon emotion and hope. As weeks went by and the monkeys hadn't shipped yet, he finally realized...as well as knew...that it wasn't going to be fast. As much as smugglers were, by their very definition, not lawful, they were strangely demanding in their own way. For one thing, they demanded proof that they were not transporting chemical agents, nuclear materials, or explosives. Upon learning this, Bates was originally surprised by how merciful such criminals could be. Then, he realized that they were protecting themselves; if some sort of massive attack were to be carried out in America, and one of them eventually uncovered as the one who transported the materials, there would be hell to pay.

Still, he wasn't as naive as he let on; he knew that there was a great deal of money changing hands due to the exchange of exotic animals. Under his request, Killigan told the smugglers that they were attempting to smuggle carefully trained monkeys into the United States, for sale to customers with more money than common sense. Once these shadowy businessmen were convinced that they weren't going to wind up crucified for horrific attacks, a certain shipping container was carefully loaded on a Scottish Island, shipped by train to London, then loaded onto a cargo airliner for an overnight flight to New York. There, it was shipped again, to Denver and then delivered to a warehouse in Middleton.

By this time, Bates had acquired additional supplies and had even rented a series of cabins on the mountain's slopes. It took him a couple of trips to shuttle the monkeys up to the cabins, but he was now ready. He had taken advantage of the delays in transporting the monkeys to purchase a number of smartphones with headsets and acquire a modest level of capability in using them.

"I don't know anything about the interior of this...lair," he admitted to the monkeys, once they were all assembled. "So I'm going to send you in to find things out, first. You can be sneaky, can't you lads?"

The monkeys jumped and shrieked, clearly showing a great deal of enthusiasm.

"Very well," Bates handed out the cameras. "I want you to sneak in and record the inside. We'll figure out what's in there and then we'll decide what to do."

It was a simple speech, but it had its effect on the primates. They didn't need complex plans or inspirational rhetoric...they needed to know that Bates was trying to find their master. With a solid, if simple, plan in place, they put their full energy into it.

"Lads, remember that your job is going to be to learn the layout of this place, to record it and map it out." He instructed them. "Even if you see Lord Fiske, don't break him out! We need a plan to get him safely back to England before we let that doctor know that we're even here."

The monkeys nodded to him, understanding what they were about to do.

"Alright, here's how we'll use this equipment I've gotten for you."

It actually took less time to teach the monkeys how to use the phones that it took to adjust the headsets to fit the small primates. Still, it was a couple of additional days' work before the first team was ready to infiltrate the lair. Here, Bates began to realize just how extensively Fiske had trained his minions...and how much they had maintained that level of capability. Despite the fact that he was observing the site with a high-powered spotter's scope, he could barely distinguish the movement as several small creatures slipped into the lair.

He quickly lost the signal when they went underground, and wound up sweating profusely until they re-emerged a little more than an hour later. Soon, he had the monkeys around him again, and was viewing the video footage they had produced. This started several days of reconnaissance and adjustments. Fortunately, Dr. Hall didn't organize her lair very well, so there were plenty of small gaps and obstructions for monkeys to hide in. The monkeys were careful and stealthy, observing the strange creatures that the twisted doctor had populated the lair with. The monkeys extended their search a little each trip, allowing Bates to review their video footage and get a solid grip on the facility's schedule. He returned to Middleton and managed to purchase some repeaters, which the monkeys hid inside of the lair, extending the human's ability to speak to the monkeys deeper into the facility. After three days of spying, one of the monkeys reached the main lab and left a phone behind to record Dr. Hall's activities.

Bates was no scientist and so had expected much of what Dr. Hall was doing to be far beyond his knowledge...but not only did he not understand what the woman was doing...he couldn't understand why she was doing it. The laboratory held numerous books that appeared to contain writing in ancient, Asian languages. Also, Dr. Hall seemed to spend most of her time in the laboratory working on stone...which seemed very odd for a geneticist. Still, Bates considered any information to be valuable, so he set up a schedule by which the monkeys would replace the hidden phone three times a day and carefully stored everything it recorded. It didn't make sense to Bates; a rogue geneticist should be studying flesh, not stone. Genetics was a relatively new science, not one to be advanced by studying the writings of ancient mystics. He struggled to understand Hall's reasoning for two days, when one of the monkeys managed to get into her personal quarters.

Most of her quarters were neat, tidy, and more comfortable than fashionable. Her bedroom, on the other had, sported a king-sized bed and a familiar statue. Those monkeys who were with Bates, observing the live feed on his screen, shrieked in joy when they saw the likeness of Montgomery Fiske in stone. Bates, on the other hand, had his attention riveted by the fact that the statue was draped with a house-robe. A certain feeling of both concern and intrigue came over the servant as the ordered the monkey to conceal the telephone in such a manner that they would have a live feed of the room, then leave the facility. He then set a schedule by which there would always be a monkey observing the two feeds that they had established in the lair.

"Lads, that looks like the statue that Dr. Hall had with her at Drakken's award ceremony," he told the monkeys. They all nodded in response.

"Is that what Lord Fiske was turned into, by that devil Yono chap?" He asked. All of the monkeys who had accompanied Fiske to Japan nodded.

"I have my suspicions about Dr. Hall," he told them. "But I won't put them to voice until I learn more. I'm very tired, so I'm going to bed. Hall keeps odd hours, but when she returns to her room, whichever of you are on watch will wake me, understood?"

The monkeys nodded again.

Bates was awake again, of his own violation, and one of the monkeys had replaced the two phones in the lair when Amy quit working in her lab and retired to her quarters. Bates waited, patiently, as he assumed that she fixed herself a meal before passing through the bedroom on the way to her bathroom. Some time later, she emerged in a bathrobe and pulled some clothing out of a drawer. Bates caught his breath as she approached Fiske.

"Oh, Monty, it's been a long day...well, more than a day. I'm sorry to have left you alone for so long, but it will mean that we can be together again!" He cheerful voice sounded a little tinny over the microphone as she pulled the robe off of the statue.

"That's something that I didn't think of," she confessed, while unfolding the pajamas she was holding. "I can take you into the lab, so you can see how hard I'm working!"

The pajamas had been carefully made, with snaps along the limbs. Amy was able to dress the statue, despite its lack of flexibility and that the kung-fu uniform that Fiske had been wearing when he was petrified had turned to stone along with him.

"Of course, you might get bored watching me work, I know that you weren't all that interested in my hobbies," Amy continued, once she was finished dressing him in what appeared to be silk sleepwear. "But it can't be any worse than being all alone in the bedroom."

"I _**am**_ working hard," she assured him, now standing in front of his stone form. "But this isn't what I'm good at! I'm trying to study both mysticism and physics; trying to find magic that will bring you back to me, and trying to find the science that will convert silicates to hydrocarbons...but I've told you this a dozen times, haven't I?"

With a strength that belied her short stature, Amy lifted the statue and tucked it into the bed. She then turned off the lights. In the dim view afforded by the phone's low-light capability, Bates watched her silhouette remove her robe, slide into bed and cuddle close to him.

"It won't be too much longer," her voice barely registered over the speaker. "Be patient, I'm working as hard as I can and we'll be together again...I promise."

Motion ceased and soon the sound of snoring sounded from Bates' monitor. "Well lads, that cuts it," he told the monkeys around him. "That's what's left of Lord Fiske."

The monkeys responded with a chorus of excited chitters.

"The only question is, what do we do now?" Bates asked them. The monkeys all stared at him, perplexed.

"We could grab him and take him back to England, but is that the smart thing to do?" He asked them. They didn't answer, but cocked their heads, curiously.

"Dr. Hall might be deranged, but she's smarter than I am," Bates explained to them. "And she's had some time to research this problem. I think that we can all agree that we want Lord Fiske back, can't we?"

The monkeys shrieked with enthusiasm.

"So, our best bet to get him back is to let Dr. Hall do it."

The monkeys suddenly looked thoughtful.

"But it's not as easy as that," Bates mused. "If I stay here to long, Earl Snidely is going to get suspicious. Of course, I might be able to explain the situation to him and he could very well agree to this."

The monkeys continued to look contemplative.

"Of course, Kim Possible might get suspicious if I just stay here. She and her fellow have already said that they don't want Fiske back." The monkeys started to growl. "And the likes of Dr. Drakken and that Shego lass are scared of them. Even as tough as you lads are, I don't think we want a confrontation here. If Possible learns that Amy's working to bring Fiske back, there could be trouble."

The monkeys nodded, sharing perplexed looks with each other. Bates himself was stumped. He somehow sensed that he had been in the area too long already, suspicions from different directions were bound to be increasing. However, there wasn't much point to recovering Fiske if he couldn't...recover...him.

"I could head back to England and come back later," he mused. "But if Hall turns him back, what's to say that she'll stay here? I may have to try to track her down all over again." His eyes flew wide. "What if me being here so long has already made Possible suspicious enough to look into the matter? If Possible learns that Hall is trying to turn him back, she might grab him and hide him somewhere!"

The monkeys now looked concerned.

"We've got to get him out of there and back to England," Bates decided. "But what to do about changing him? Well, I guess I can work on that while I'm making arrangements to get him home. Getting him out of that lair is only the first step. I need a plan."

Now feeling time pressing upon him, Bates worked to plan things out. It would be easy enough to get Fiske out of the area; all he had to do was rent a cargo truck...and there were plenty in Middleton. The pickup would get Fiske from the mountain to the city and the cargo truck would take them anywhere in the nation...but what then? Getting Fiske out of America and, more importantly, into England was the problem. Fiske could easily be passed off as a statue and imported artwork wasn't something that the British Government, and by extension Earl Snidely, would be terribly suspicious about. However, he would need a receipt to prove to the customs agents that he wasn't moving stolen property and he needed a reason to alleviate Snidely's suspicions. He suddenly had a bit of inspiration, and sent an email to Duff Killigan.

He then considered what to do with Fiske, and how he could convince Dr. Hall to continue her work, but once Fiske was in his possession. It was getting decidedly late when he realized that once he and the lads seized Fiske, he would have the ultimate leverage over her. Smiling, he wrote a note, which would be delivered in an interesting way and went to bed.

Upon waking, he checked with the monkeys to see if anything interesting happened. The single monkey, who was on watch at the time, simply pointed to the screen and showed him that Amy was back at work in her laboratory, where Fiske was now set. The petrified nobleman was now dressed in the robe again. Shaking his head, Bates checked his email and discovered that Killigan had already come through. Smiling, he did some work with a navigation program and made more plans.

Making sure that the remaining monkeys understood when to rotate the phones recording the activities in the laboratory and the bedroom, he took the other half to Middleton. Once there, he purchased some supplies and put the monkeys to work preparing their shipping container for the trip back to England. He took a rough guess and decided that it would ship out in five days' time. After that, he rented a cargo truck, to be picked up on the same day that the shipping container was to be loaded, and when the pickup was to be returned.

"It's going to be some tight timing, lads," he told the monkeys, once he returned. "But it's the best plan I could come up with. I hope you're ready fore some fisticuffs, because things could turn violent."

The monkeys jumped up and down, showing their enthusiasm.

"But remember, no unnecessary damage and no casualties," he warned them. "After all is said and done, we don't want Dr. Hall overly angry. She's vital to these plans."

The monkeys seemed a little less enthusiastic, but Bates didn't doubt their loyalty.

The days passed slowly, then the hours, then the minutes. On the evening before he would have to return the pickup, ship out the container and collect the cargo truck, Bates exited the cabin for the last time. By now, he only had his pack with him, holding what few essentials he would need for the remainder of his mission. The monkeys piled into the back of the pickup, with three in the cab with him, for the drive around the mountain to the spot they had previously scouted. Leaving a single monkey on guard, Bates followed the rest along the trail to the lair's entrance. It was full dark by the time they reached it.

They paused while Bates examined the screen on his phone, monitoring those that were inside. "She's working in her lab," he reported to them. "Not as good as being asleep in bed, but we can still deal with her. Remember, most of you have been in here before, but I haven't, so I'll be letting you take the lead."

The monkeys nodded, tolerantly, at him.

"Speed is the key," he continued. "If the lot of you can have her subdued before she knows we're here, there won't be any prob..." He noted that the monkeys were looking bored. "We've gone over all of this already, haven't we?"

The monkeys all nodded, and a few rolled their eyes.

"Right then," he declared. "Nothing but to get on with it!"

That was all the monkeys needed. Moving quickly but quietly, they rushed the last few feet across the mountain slope and into the lair. Bates followed behind them, mindful of the fact that he was nowhere near as quiet as they were. Ahead of him, they threw open the door, which wasn't even locked, and rushed inside. A roar sounded when they encountered one of the bipedal creatures that served Dr. Hall. With stealth no longer an option, the monkeys shrieked as a group. Three of them remained in the passage to deal with the creature, while the remainder rushed deeper into the lair.

Bates paused as the three monkeys subdued the creature. He didn't know what to call it; it was large, hairy, powerful...but not particularly fierce or agile. It also didn't seem to have much skill when it came to fighting. One monkey met it head on, striking hard blows on its abdomen and face while avoiding powerful, but slow and clumsy, strikes. With the creature distracted, the other two monkeys slipped behind it and delivered powerful kicks to the back of its knee joints. The creature dropped to a kneeling posture and the two monkeys behind it each grabbed a foot and yanked. Its roar of outrage was cut short when it's face met the rough stone of the passage floor. The monkeys pulled rolls of duct tape out of their pouches and restrained it completely, before it could recover.

With the creature immobilized, one monkey stayed to keep an eye on it while Bates followed the other two deeper into the lair, where their fellows had already gone. Additional roars, and a woman's angry yells, sounded from up ahead. The monkeys were capable, motivated and well trained. By the time Bates and his two companions arrived at the lab, Dr. Hall and the other two creatures were also restrained.

"Well done, lads!" Bates congratulated his companions. "Now, as we discussed. There's no need for more cruelty than necessary! You two, fetch the poles! You three, help me with the doctor!"

With the monkeys' help, Bates carried the squirming Dr. Hall to her bedroom and lay her, as comfortably as they could, on the bed.

"Dr. Hall," he addressed her, as the monkeys returned to the laboratory. "You are probably very angry with me right now, however I am ready to offer you a deal by which you can continue your work, in more comfortable settings."

Amy glared at him over her gag.

"I have a letter, explaining it all," he continued, holding up an envelope. "I will leave this on your dresser. When you are free again, read it and use the information inside to contact me. I am Lord Fiske's faithful servant, and I am honor bound to return him to his estate. Should you wish to rejoin him there, you will be welcome to do so."

Dr. Hall's struggles didn't abate, and her glare didn't soften. Bates could only hope that she would eventually see reason as he left her and made his way back to the lab. By the time he got there, all three bipedal creatures were gathered there and the monkeys were using some poles to fabricate a carrying rig for Lord Fiske.

"This may not be dignified, m'lord," Fiske addressed the statue. "But it is necessary. If you are aware, please understand that we are returning you home." He then turned to the monkeys. "Are the quadrupeds secure?"

The monkeys nodded. Satisfied, Bates selected the smallest of the bipeds. Two of the monkeys freed the creature's legs while Bates and three more monkeys hoisted Fiske. Minutes later, they were all out of the lair and struggling down the slope to the pickup.

It was a tight fit, but the creature, Fiske, and most of the monkeys were able to fit into the back while Bates and thee more monkeys rode in the cab. Bates prayed to any power that would hear that they wouldn't be observed. He knew that this road had very little traffic, especially at night, but light traffic didn't mean no traffic; and they were hardly an unremarkable group at the moment. The light of a bonfire appeared to the side of the road, but Bates had no choice but to forge on and hope that nobody was observing. Fortunately, he saw nobody and assumed that there was a party taking place off of the road that was completely engrossing to whomever was attending.

After nearly two hours of driving on the winding, mountain road, he had reached his location he had previously selected. He pulled the vehicle to the side of the road and motioned for the monkeys to pull Dr. Hall's creature out of the vehicle.

"Now see here," he addressed the creature in as stern a tone as he could muster, aware that the fact that the thing stood at least a half-meter taller than him took away a great deal of his intimidation. "I'm about to release you. If you choose to attack me, the lads here will simply truss you up again. If you leave, you can be back at Dr. Hall's lair shortly before dawn. Do you understand me?"

The thing wasn't as intelligent as the monkeys, but it was able to provide a short nod. Bates motioned for the monkeys to cut the tape binding its arms. Once free, if favored Bates with an angry glare, but turned and rushed off back up the mountain at an impressive pace. Bates sighed in relief.

"That's one step completed," he told the monkeys. "Let's hope our luck holds."

The monkeys chittered in an affirmative tone while everyone clambered back aboard the vehicle. With the creature gone, the monkeys were able to pull a tarp over the bed, shielding themselves and Fiske from casual observation. Now that a modicum of discretion was in place, Bates guided the vehicle into Middleton.

The first stop was an alleyway near the dealership that rented the pickup. After a quick check to make sure that there was nobody else nearby, Bates and the monkeys unloaded Fiske from the pickup, then loaded him into the larger vehicle and strapped him in securely. With a last apology to his master's stone form, Bates closed and locked the cargo compartment, then urged the monkeys back under the tarp in the pickup's bed. The next stop was a warehouse.

Once at the warehouse, the group again checked to make sure that they were alone. With their privacy confirmed, the monkeys loaded into their shipping container.

"Remember lads, don't give that Killigan fellow any problems," Bates gave them some final instructions. "If all goes according to plan, you'll arrive before I do. No funny business, but keep your eyes open for Dr. Hall. Who knows what she's capable of? When I get back, we'll plan our next moves."

The monkeys all bowed to him, so Bates returned the gesture, checked the itinerary one last time, then locked the container. He then returned to the pickup and waited until the container was loaded onto a train, shortly before dawn. With the monkeys now beyond his reach, he drove back to the dealership.

He had paid a little extra for an "as-is" return policy, so he didn't have to wash or refuel the vehicle before returning it. Dropping off the keys, he spotted one of the coffee shops that seemed to occupy every corner of every American city. Deciding that his need for caffeine superseded his normal preferences, he got a large cup of very strong coffee and returned to the cargo truck. He had a long drive before he could sleep again. Activating the GPS, he got onto Interstate 25 and headed south.

It was afternoon before he reached Albuquerque, and followed the GPS to a stone-carver. By the time he arrived and pulled around to the back, the business was deserted except for the owner, a burly man with heavily calloused hands.

"Your name?" He asked, by way of greeting.

"Jim," Bates answered. "Yours?"

"Bill." Now that the names were exchanged, he offered his hand for a quick shake. "Let's get you backed in."

He opened a bay door and guided Bates as he backed the truck into the spacious area inside. Once he closed the door, blocking prying eyes from their business, they opened the truck and Bill produced a forklift, modified to handle odd-shaped loads. Soon, Fiske was set on the workroom floor and Bill offered Bates a slight smile.

"I do very detailed work, don't I?"

"A master craftsman," Bates complimented him. "I'm glad that I heard of you for this piece of artwork."

"Well, let's get this settled," Bill led him into the office area, where Bates was able to confirm the transfer of funds from the Fiske Estate to the local business.

Satisfied, Bill handed Bates the receipt and led the way back to the shop. He took several photographs of Fiske, and gave Bates copies before pulling some planks and plywood from several bins.

"For as much as you just paid me, the least I can do is pack this up properly," the craftsman told him. Bates wholeheartedly agreed and assisted the man in constructing a quick, wooden frame around Fiske, which was then filled with packing foam. Bill then reloaded the statue back into the truck and the two men secured it. The task complete, Bill shook hands with Bates again.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Jim," he said, then opened the door for Bates to drive out. The two men didn't exchange any further words.

Beyond exhaustion, Bates managed to follow the GPS to the shipping company he had previously engaged. There, a forklift unloaded the crate and another man, carrying a tablet, approached Bates.

"Your name?" He asked, all business.

"James Bates, representing the Fiske Estate."

"We have you on the record as shipping one piece of stone artwork, produced by a local sculpture, to the United Kingdom," he noted something on the display. "Do you have a receipt and pictures of the artwork?"

"Right here," Bates provided copies of the requested items.

"Very well, Mr. Bates," the man nodded. "You understand that British Customs will most likely open this crate and inspect the statue?"

"Of course," Bates assured him.

"This is your last chance to not send it, in case it contains something that you shouldn't be shipping."

"Understood," Bates nodded. "I have nothing to hide."

"Very well, here is your receipt that I've accepted the statue. It should arrive at Lord Fiske's Estate in a little over a week."

"Thank you, sir." Bates wasn't happy about leaving Fiske, but he didn't see another way to assure his master's arrival. He shook hands with the man, accepted the paperwork provided, and climbed back into the truck.

He was beyond exhausted by the time he turned in the rental truck and caught a cab to the airport. His weariness was perhaps a blessing for the long line to be checked through security for an international flight; his mind was incapable of worrying about the myriad things that could go wrong. Despite the long wait and his lack of energy, he was finally on an airliner bound for New York, from where he would catch a flight to London. Despite the fact that it would do no good to worry now, he still worried. It was a very uneasy sleep that he slipped into, and dark dreams that he experienced, all the way home.

* * *

"Mr. Killigan, th-this is a most unexpected honor," Bates stammered at the Scotsman, who had just arrived at the Fiske Mansion.

"Well, ye shewd 'ave been expectin it," Duff countered. "Aye helped ye set up th' schedules, so I knew when yer shipment would get here. Yer statue is supposed to be delivered any minute now, isn't it?"

"Y-yes," Bates nodded.

"And ye promised t' let me know what became o' ole Monty," Killigan pointed out. "This is jest me collectin' me pay. So, are ye going to jest stand there or are ye going to let me come in out o' the rain?"

For a moment, Bates considered what to do.

"I got yer wee monkeys back to the estate, didn't I?" Duff pressed. "Haven't I been helpful to ye?"

"Well...yes," Bates stepped back and motioned the big man to come in. "I just..."

"Ye wanted to make sure everything worked out right," Killigan finished for him. "Don't ye worry lad, I won't talk if something went wrong."

"Of course," Bates admitted. "I'll have some tea ready in a minute. Please, make yourself comfortable. Forgive me if I was less than hospitable, but this is the first time I've smuggled a petrified nobleman onto his own estate."

"Aye, that's not an activity that yer likely to grow used to doin'" Duff agreed, taking a seat and looking with approval at a spot along the wall of the great hall that Bates had marked off with a velvet rope. When Bates returned to the hall, he was accompanied by the monkeys, bearing tea and a light meal.

"We might as well be comfortable while waiting," Bates declared.

The monkeys set the table and soon all primates were enjoying the meal while Duff told them stories from his criminal days.

"Bet those days are over, at least fer the most part," he concluded. "Doin' what I used tew just doesn't feel th' same after that invasion we had. I think it's time tew manage me estate...and maybe help uncover the occasional mystery."

Any response Bates, or the monkeys, could have offered was interrupted by the sound of a vehicle horn outside.

"All right lads, clear out and take the settings with you!" Bates ordered. The monkeys were efficient, and by the time Bates had made his way from the table to the main entrance, it looked like only the two men had been waiting the delivery.

"I hope I understood the instructions correctly," one of the deliveryman informed Bates, when the servant opened the door. "I was told to deliver this crate to the main entrance. When dealing with nobility, I usually deliver to a servants entrance."

"You're quite correct," Bates assured him. "This delivery should come through here. It's...appropriate."

Thus assured, the deliveryman motioned for his partner to back a truck towards the aforementioned door and extended a ramp from the truck to the very portal. Bates caught his breath when the truck's door rolled up and revealed a familiar crate.

"Eh, no need t' worry with those little wheelies," Duff protested, when the men sought to load the crate onto some hand trolleys. "Aye've got it!"

Before anyone could protest, the big man seized the crate in a bear-hug, hoisted it onto a shoulder, and carried it to the spot that Bates had set aside.

"Very well, sir," the lead deliveryman addressed Bates, while still staring in disbelief at Duff. "Shall we open it, to check for damage?"

"That won't be necessary," Bates assured him. "I'll waive the right to inspect. I wish to open the statue in a more...private...setting."

"Understood sir," the man answered, offering Bates the delivery receipts to sign.

"Ordinarily, I would ask the two of you to enjoy a cup of tea," Bates told him, returning the papers, along with a few pounds. "However, I'm afraid that circumstances don't allow me to display the manners one expects followed in this house. On the other hand, if you and your assistant would stop by the local pub for a pint or two, you will hopefully remember this property more fondly."

"We certainly will, sir," the man assured Bates, with a wide smile. "And a good day to you!"

"Enough o' the pleasantries," Duff grumbled, once Bates had seen the men back to their truck. "Let's get Monty out o' the box!"

Bates agreed and called for the monkeys, who rushed back into the great hall with tools in hand. Working carefully, to Duff's annoyance, Bates and the monkeys disassembled the crate, peeled back the foam padding, and revealed Montgomery Fiske.

"Sew, that's what's become of Monty," Duff commented, as Bates carefully inspected the stone form for any cracks or other damage. "He doesn't look like he enjoyed his fate, does he?"

"No," Bates was forced to agree. "He looks terrified."

"Aye," Duff agreed. "Maybe a lesson, if you will. Some dreams shewdn't be chased tew far. Can ye join me in a toast, laddie?"

Looking up from ins inspection, Bates watched Killigan pull a couple of glasses, as well as a very dusty bottle, from his pouch and set them on the table. With a grace that belied his size, strength and reputation, he poured a couple of fingers worth of what appeared to be good scotch in each glass.

"I believe I will," Bates nodded, and took one of the glasses.

"Tew Monty," Duff raised his glass in a salute towards the petrified nobleman. "Yer finally home, e'en if it isn't in th' manner yew'd have liked. May ye stand guard o'er this house for many a year t' come, and be a warnin' to any o' yer kin that be tempted t' follow the same path."

"Here, here!" Bates copied the salute, and the two men drank. It was definitely good scotch.

"Well, aye guess aye'll be goin'," Duff declared.

"At this time of the afternoon?" Bates asked. "I can easily put you up for the night."

"Nae," he shrugged. "Me dirigible has autopilot and even though Monty's made o' stone now, I'll give him his first night back home with no outsiders. It's been a fun mystery t' help solve, but let me know if something new happens."

"I certainly will."

With a last, polite, nod to Lord Fiske, Killigan allowed Bates to show him to the door. After seeing the dirigible float into the air and head north, Bates returned to the great hall.

"Well, this duty is now done," he told the statue. "I've returned you to your home, m'lord. I sincerely apologize for the methods I had to use, but I could not assure that you would get here safely any other way. I do not know if...if you're in there, if you'll pardon the expression, but I can only hope that you can appreciate the necessity...even though it seems so wrong that I traveled in a climate controlled cabin while you were packed into a crate."

"I'll maintain your properties," Bates continued. "The Fiske name will not be associated with a derelict ruin. However, I want you to understand that I have not given up recovering you; but I simply do not have expertise in this field, and it isn't the sort of thing that one can hire a reputable craftsman to do. I may take some actions that you may find distasteful, but again, I can only hope that the end will justify the means and you will appreciate that I must be obedient to necessity, even more than I was ever obedient to you."

He thought that he should make some powerful gesture, say some profound phrase that would sum up his complex emotions, but came up with nothing. Instead, he simply offered his master a slight bow before leaving the great hall and attending to the myriad tasks that he had taken upon himself.

Later that night, he received a call.

From Dr. Amy Hall.

* * *

Epilogue.

"...so when I saw the work that this stone-carver could do, I chose to have him create a statue of Lord Fiske," Bates explained. "Since I have never been able to determine M'lord Fiske's actual fate, but I know that it wasn't a pleasant one, I chose to have him shown in a position of terror, as a warning for his heir to not follow that same path."

"Very good," Earl Snidely murmured, as he took yet another walk around the petrified nobleman. "An excellent cover story. Now, do be a good chap and tell me the real tale."

"This is Lord Fiske," Bates answered. "He was turned to stone by a supernatural creature, when his quest for power failed. The same doctor who had altered him developed an infatuation with him, and managed to dig him up from his resting place. I do not know what sort of deal she had to strike with that supernatural creature...if any. I do know that me and Lord Fiske's monkeys had to seize him by force and smuggle him here."

"Be a good man and make sure that the estate's legal council stipulates that the statue must remain with the property," Snidely instructed him. "Should it be damaged beyond repair, state that it must be buried in the estate's cemetery."

"The Fiske family has a series of catacombs beneath the mansion," Bates informed him.

"So make sure that it is interred in one of the tombs," Snidely nodded, showing that he took no offense at being corrected. "If you have any difficulties, let me know."

"I will, m'lord."

"You've done well," Snidely noted, approval evident in his tone. "However, have you given any thought to trying to...return him?"

"Who would I approach?" Bates asked. "The being that did this to him has departed, and I suspect that the payment it would demand for returning him would be much higher than anyone can really afford." He allowed a slight smile to cross his face. "Even an Englishman's loyalty only goes so far."

"Quite right," Snidely returned the smile.

"If I were to ask scientists or religious figures, I'm sure I would be deemed insane," Bates continued. "I have not grown so weary of these duties that I wish to exchange them for institutionalization."

"Good man," Snidely's smile grew wider. "I'm exposed to strange things in the course of my duties, so if I find something that suggests that he can be returned, I will inform you. In the meantime, aren't you nervous that this doctor who originally obtained him will come looking for him?"

"The monkeys maintain a watch over the property," Bates assured him. "Although I may have to acquire some more and have them train the newcomers. Monkeys only live for so long. No, m'lord, I feel quite secure here."

"Very well, I'll leave you to it." Snidely picked up his coat and hat. "Do keep me up to date, and let me know should there be alterations to the situation here."

"Of course, m'lord."

Bates saw the man to the door and even held an umbrella for him as he climbed into his car. He watched the man drive off. Once he was sure that the Earl was away from the estate, he returned inside, poured two cups of tea and made his way to the dungeons below. Changes had been made in the weeks between the recovery of the statue and the Earl's visit. The area that used to be reserved for the storage of robust, partially valuable artifacts was now brightly lit and filled with modern, laboratory equipment.

"The Earl is safely away," he told the short, heavyset woman who was staring intently at a screen.

"I've only made partial progress," Amy admitted, gratefully accepting her cup. "I'm getting better at converting silicates to hydrocarbons, but I'm still having trouble dispersing the excess energy that this produces. I'm sure I'll deal with this eventually, but I'm still worried about what will happen if I succeed."

"Oh?" Bates was curious.

"Even if I get him back, if I can change him to flesh and blood, will it be Monty in there? Science doesn't deal with the soul, which is why I need those texts I had you purchase."

"They were expensive," Bates admitted. "But if they help recover him...well...what's the purpose of an estate, if not to provide for the comfort and well-being of the master?"

"It could go faster," she reminded him.

"No!" He said, quite firmly. "You will not experiment on the lads." They had had this argument several times, so Amy let it go.

"I'm still a little angry with you," she pouted. "But I have to admit that I'm making good progress here. I'm much farther along with the support you've provided. Why couldn't you have just offered to help me back in Colorado?"

"I didn't know that you would be willing to help, at least in a manner acceptable to me." Bates admitted. "And I wanted him here, at home. If he's returned, he will be a nobleman and not your plaything."

"I guess I understand," she turned her attention back to the screen. "At least I'm safe enough here, and don't have to worry about anyone else causing problems."

* * *

The four-tone signal woke Kim from a very comfortable doze. The warm body she had been resting against shifted as well, disturbed by the implications of a call.

"Go, Wade," she spoke into her wrist-mounted Kimmunicator.

"I've just detected a very odd purchase made by the Fiske Estate," the younger man told his older friends. "And this prompted me to trace some other suspicious purchases to the same destination."

"Okay, details," Kim demanded.

"I've been keeping an eye on the estate ever since Bates grabbed Fiske from Amy," Wade explained.

"Wait, we don't know that for sure," Ron protested, sitting up next to Kim on the couch they were snuggling on just moments before.

"Check this out," Wade countered, and a newspaper article was projected into the air above Kim's wrist.

"That's an article form the Tri-City Snooper!" Kim protested. "Since when do you monitor tabloids?"

"Just read the article," Wade told her.

"Party-goer leaves the bonfire and observes a pickup running down a mountain road," Kim read. "It was driven by a British gentleman and carried several monkeys, a restrained Sasquatch, and a stone statue."

"The chief editor blames President Trump for this outrage," Ron continued. "While the staff psychic predicts that this heralds the reversal of human evolution, an NRA representative cites this as evidence that the Second Amendment is vital for the safety of law-abiding folk, and the staff custodian claims this as evidence that local moonshiners are getting better at their craft."

"This sighting occurred the day before Bates flew back to England," Wade told the two. "I dug a little deeper and found records that the Fiske Estate paid for a custom-crafted statue, and had it shipped to Monty's mansion, the day that Bates' flight left Albuquerque. The statue was purchased from a stone-carver in Albuquerque."

"So you think he took steps to smuggle Fiske back to his mansion," Kim shrugged. "We told him to go ahead and do that."

"Yes, but he just purchased several books of magic," Wade told her. "Among other things, they supposedly have instructions on how to return someone who's dead...back to life."

"And you think that this could actually work?" Kim asked.

"Up until you described what happened to Fiske, no," Wade admitted. "So, why do you think that Bates would order mystic books and have them delivered to the Fiske Mansion, shortly after recovering Fiske?"

"Uh...the only thing I can think of is something I'd rather not think about," Ron admitted.

"Here's the kicker," Wade told him. "This purchase made me check some other shady purchases inside the United Kingdom. A great deal of genetic laboratory equipment has been purchased and shipped to locations within fifty kilometers of Fiske's Estate before vanishing."

"Okay, I think I'm about to hear some sort of conclusion," Kim quipped.

"I sent a drone up to Mount Middleton," Wade's expression and voice were very serious. "Amy's lair has been abandoned."

"So you think that she's at Monty's Mansion, working with Bates to restore Fiske?" Kim asked him.

"It's the only conclusion I can come up with."

"Okay," Kim sighed. "Scare us up a ride. I think it's about time for us to have a word with Bates."

 _-finis-_

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks for reading. As always, huge thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for beta reading._


End file.
